Metallic Thoughts, Genetic Memories
by dixiegurl13
Summary: Sector Seven has formed a deadly alliance with a well-known terrorist organization in an attempt to eradicate all Cybertronians from Earth. But a young woman and her unlikely Decepticon ally have something to say about that.
1. Search and Rescue

**A/N: Hey all! This is my first fanfic, so...mercy, please! :) If there are any incontinuities please  
forgive me, it has been several years since I last wrote anything of this magnitude. It will take me a few chapters to really get back into the groove of writing. Please enjoy and remember--constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Transformers; Hasbro does. I can and do claim this plot however! Ha-Ha!**

**Chapter 1: Search and Rescue**

_**Many, many years before…**_

On the horizon, a small party of horsemen topped a low ridge and began to enter the canyon. The barren, rocky slopes were home to big horn sheep and migrating elk. The time of the hunt had begun. As the warriors made their way to the canyon's bottom, one of the brave's signaled the others to stop.

Ahead, around the bend in the river a faint bluish glow permeated the morning mist. The warriors found this very disturbing, and readied their weapons. Slowly, the lead brave dismounted his horse and approached the rocky outcropping on silent feet.

Cautiously, he braced his back against the rock, straining every sense for a sound, smell, sign, even a taste. Slowly…ever so slowly he glanced around the rocky bend. His eyes grew as wide as the Colorado River. There before the young warrior's eyes was a massive cube, a faint bluish light emanating all around it. Strange glyphs and characters adorned its walls, speaking of a language, a race that was not of this earth.

The brave signaled to his fellow tribesmen. They warily joined him at the corner of the river bend. The brave pointed at the cube; the others stood awestruck at its size and majesty. They stood and gesticulated for a moment, unsure of how to treat this strange, new object.

While the others stood and argued about what to do next, the first brave who made the discovery moved closer to the foreign object. He was drawn to it like a moth to the flame. He heard a strange melody singing to him, reminiscent to home yet strangely unusual. He stepped closer, a hand outstretched in wonder.

His fellow braves suddenly stopped arguing and began shouting for him to stop…but it was too late. A blindingly intense blue light enveloped the sleepy canyon. A wind as strong as the desert storms raced through the rock, picking up the grains of sand and stinging the hunting party like a swarm of bees.

As quickly as the flash came it dispersed. At the foot of the object lay the warrior who had dared to touch such a thing that seemingly came from the Great Spirit Himself. They quickly went to his side, rolled him to his back and carried him to their horses. Once there, they laid him down and tried to wake their fallen comrade.

The young brave groaned. His eyes fluttered briefly before opening fully. He heard his fellow braves gasp, point and begin speaking rapidly. He sat up and slowly made his way to the river's edge. He knelt down and peered into the water's reflection. His eyes widened in awe for second time that morning, for there in the reflection where once Indian brown eyes gazed back, now the gaze was met with a bluish white.

**

* * *

****_Present Day…_**

She ran. She ran as fast and as hard as she could. She didn't know why they wanted to kill her, but then again she wasn't going to stick around to find out. She risked a glance behind. In the distance they were still there, flashlights blinking in the slight moonlight.

Why? What the hell was going on? These questions and various others raced through her mind as she attempted to comprehend the events of the past hour.

_We were sitting at home enjoying dinner when suddenly several armed men burst through the front and back doors. I remember that they resembled a SWAT team. We were told to lie down on the floor, spread eagle. Mom and step dad were handcuffed and taken away, without even their Miranda rights read. _

_Another man dressed in a black suit approached me. I recall he was tall, athletically built and clean shaven. His eyes were the color of ice, and they felt as much too. I demanded to know what was going on and he laughed at me. Then he grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. He told two other men to "take care of me."_

_Next thing I know, I'm being drug off into the desert, God knows where. One of them gets the idea to "have a little fun" before they complete their task. They pull me out of the car and proceed to try to rip my clothes off. That was when I kicked out, catching one of those jerks in the groin and I made a run for it. Thing of it is where are you going to run in the middle of a desert plain?_

She glanced behind herself again hoping that she had put some distance between herself and her pursuers. Big mistake. A gully obscured in darkness swallowed the young woman into its depths. She grunted as the hard desert floor greeted her skin in a rough embrace. She rolled and tumbled down the incline feeling flesh rip and tear. She stopped at the bottom in a heap of rock, dust and other debris. Nothing was broken, but it hurt like hell to move. High above her the blood moon shone down on hunter and quarry.

She struggled to rise, to continue her flight, but was showered in more dust and rock as her pursuers caught up to her.

"Well, well, well looks like our little wench has finally tired from running from us, Jake," said a large, burly man. He was dressed in blue jeans and a polo shirt, the smell of alcohol permeated the air around him.

"Shut up, Dan. If it wasn't for you and your bright idea to have a little fun we'da had this job done by now," snapped Jake. He was a wiry man with sharp weasel-like eyes, a mind as methodical as a computer, and a heart as black as coal.

"Don't tell me to shut up. I intend to get something out of this bitch after that stunt she pulled." He turned his scathing eyes to the girl. "I was planning to go easy on ya, but since you like to play rough, I will play rough too."

The man named Dan proceeded to backhand the young woman. Blow after blow rained down on her already beaten and torn body. A vicious kick caught her under her right arm. She felt her ribs crack, and she knew that one arm was fractured as she tried to shield herself from the blows. She tried to hold back her cries of pain; she wouldn't give them the pleasure of hearing her scream in hurt.

Jake watched the beating with an air of indifference. So long as the girl was dead by sunrise, he really didn't care what happened between now and then. They were not to leave a trace of her existence, it didn't matter how it was accomplished.

After ten minutes of severe cruelty, the young woman didn't know how much more she could take physically or mentally. A deep rage was building within her, a rage that came from the innermost part of her soul. In one night her world had been torn to pieces and now she was faced with death and she didn't even know why.

"Now maybe I've beaten some sense into ya, you'll stand for a little fun before we bury your carcass," Dan sneered. He grabbed her broken arm with vicious strength, the intent to commit the ultimate humiliation clearly showing in his murderous gaze.

Without warning she screamed into the night. Her outburst was so sudden that Dan dropped her arm as if he had touched molten iron. The two hitmen listened in shock as a strange language burst forth from the girl's lips, a language neither man had ever heard nor would ever hear again. It was not a sound of fear, but rather pure unbridled fury.

The sound of a jet engine ripped into the night stillness following the girl's cry. The two men searched the sky for the aircraft. Then in the distance, grazing the horizon, a jet was making a bee-line straight for their position, flying so low dust billowed up from the desert floor creating a mini sandstorm. "INCOMING!!" Dan shouted as he turned tail and ran as fast he could, Jake in pursuit. No job was worth being mowed down by a rogue jet.

The dark outline of the jet swooped low over the desert plain, thundering over the young girl and tracking her attackers. Machine gun fire split the night and two bodies bit the earth with resounding finality. The craft swooped upwards into a loop-de-loop and began to change form right before the woman's eyes.

With a thunderous boom, the once-jet landed on bird-like feet not twenty yards before her. She quaked with dread at the sight before her eyes, a creature she had never before seen nor heard of. It turned slowly to face her; eyes as red as the blood moon over the desert. Dark blue metal glinted in the moon's feeble light. She knew that this thing was huge, and capable of killing her as easily as one swats a gnat.

It took two earthshaking steps towards her then knelt down to her level. Its great wings swallowed her into a deeper darkness she did not think possible. Two massive protrusions on the creature's shoulders seemed to fence her in as the thing faced her. Blazing blood red optics were inches from her eyes. Then in a deep and thunderous voice, it spoke perfect English.

"Where did you learn to speak Cybertronian, human?!"


	2. Back to Square One

**A/N: Well, here's the next chapter ya'll. If you can, please leave a review. Also if you have any suggestions drop me a line. ;)**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Transformers; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Two: Back to Square One**

The young woman took a step back, but slipped on some loose dirt. She fell flat on her back; pain ripped through her body as she stifled a yell. For once in her life, speech had completely left her.

The robot's eyes narrowed as he waited for the human's reply. "I will not ask you again, fleshling. Where did you learn to speak Cybertronian?!"

"I…I don't know," she stammered. She struggled to put some space between herself and him. She vaguely thought that facing two murderous hitmen would be the end of her life, now she was beginning to rethink that little scenario.

Without warning a massive fist slammed into the ground a mere two feet from her figure. The earth cracked and split around her from the force of the blow. She screamed when the fist struck the earth, but instantly regretted it. White hot pain tore through her body leaving in its wake a dull throb. Every breath felt like inhaling fire.

"Do not attempt to deceive me, human or I _will _finish what the other two fleshbags begun."The creature's voice was as cold as ice, but his optics blazed with the fury of an inferno. He kept his hand on the ground next to her, palm down with fingers spread.

The young woman glanced sideways at the claws on his fingers; she cringed inwardly. This thing would never believe her. She honestly did not know where those strange words had come from or even what she had said. Whatever it was, it had certainly grabbed this thing's attention. _Great, I probably cussed this guy out and didn't even realize it, _she thought with irony. _Maybe I should have paid more attention in French class._

"Look. I…really don't…know. I don't even…know what I…said, let…alone…where I learned…it from," she gasped. Every word was spoken with effort. The young woman didn't know how much longer she could maintain consciousness, the pain had become so intense. _Perhaps death wouldn't be so bad. _Please… if your gonna…kill me, just…do it!" Her dark green eyes smoldered with agony and…anger.

Those last words zapped her remaining strength. Her raven black head relaxed onto the ground then rolled to one side. She was unconscious.

* * *

Thundercracker glared at the still figure before him. Part of him wanted to fulfill the fleshling's desire. Another part of him needed to question the human further, but in order to do that she needed repaired, if only temporarily.

He closed his optics and tried to clear his processor. He reflected on just how he ended up in this situation to begin with. He had been flying over the Mojave Desert performing routine reconnaissance. He had been cruising along at high altitude, checking his scanners every so often for suspicious activity, namely Autobot activity. Normally, he wouldn't classify any human activity as suspicious, but a vehicle traveling in the middle of the desert where no road was present levied a closer look. Even though he despised humans and every other land-based creature, he decided to investigate if not just to alleviate the boredom of reconnaissance.

He had looped back around to follow the vehicle when he heard a human's scream. His keen Cybertronian hearing picked up the sound in the desert's stillness at least five miles away. But that wasn't all; immediately following the scream he distinctly heard the familiar chords of his native language. His scanners told him that only three humans and himself were in the immediate vicinity. Now his curiosity was really aroused. How in the name of Primus was a human speaking his language?

As he lowered altitude and closed in on the humans, he detected the hostility between the three. Now, his mission was clear: eliminate the threat to the human who had spoken Cybertronian. This anomaly would not be solved if someone else killed the femme first. Besides, the less fleshbags he had to deal with the better.

Now he stood over the human who had caught his interest in the first place, no closer to getting an answer than he was a few breems ago. He could only come to one conclusion: take the femme to Starscream and get his take on the situation.

He reached down to pick up the unconscious form; however, as soon as his fingers brushed her flesh Thundercracker felt an electric jolt rush through his processor. For the briefest nanosecond his mind felt clouded and disoriented. The big jet shook his head to clear his thoughts. _That was strange, _he thought. _I'll need to mention that to Starscream as well. _He placed the girl in his open cockpit. Then he leaped into the air, transformed and blasted off into the waning desert night.

* * *

Two lifeless bodies marred the pristine beauty of the desert dawn. Blood had trickled away from the carnage and formed tiny pools of red in the pockets of the pale stone. Unbeknownst to either Cybertronian or girl, a small, almost microscopic computer chip was imbedded into the neck of each body.

When the desert sun had just begun to rise, a helicopter touched down 30 yards from the empty car. The bodies were retrieved and all traces of any disturbance erased. As the helicopter lifted off, the abandoned vehicle burst into flames then exploded with such force that the percussion wave rocked the helicopter as it flew away. All that was left was a blackened circle, and minor pieces of twisted scrap metal. Anything that could have remotely identified the car had been removed or destroyed beyond recognition.

Inside the chopper, the same man that had tried to have the young woman murdered talked into a small hand-held radio. His ice blue eyes burned with smoldering fury.

"They've got the girl," he spat.

"What do you mean 'they've got the girl?' She was supposed to be dead by now, Miller," came the reply.

"It looks as if one of those Decepticons finished my boys before they could finish her."

"How can you be sure it was one of them?"

"Would fifty bullet holes from a .50 mm machine gun in each body plus some massive footprints convince you?" Sarcasm dripped from each of Miller's words. He had never failed a mission before. He knew he should have killed the girl himself instead of handing her over to those two morons. Oh well, at least _his _hands were clean so far.

"I see. At least if it had been the Autobots who stumbled on the scene we could have at least "negotiated" her return. I fear the Decepticons might be a little more distrustful of us, especially if they know her past history. But then again they might finish her off for us. They are a very volatile species."

"It's too much of a risk. Perhaps if we can trick the Autobots into doing our dirty work for us, and "rescue" the girl…" Miller trailed off.

"Yes, I see where you are going. I give you my authorization. Do whatever is necessary, just ensure that bitch dies before either side discovers her secret."

"Affirmative. Miller out." A cold gleam replaced the anger in his eyes. Perhaps he could redeem his reputation after all. And who knew? He might be in for a promotion if this thing went as planned.


	3. Hi! What's Your Name?

**A/N: Sorry for the long absence; when it rains it pours. Anywho, here is chapter three. Please read and review and let me know what ya think! Any ideas are appreciated. Like I said, I'm pretty new at this. Oh, and no flamers--After all, I am a firefighter! ;) **

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Three: Hi! What's Your Name?**

_The landscape was foreign, surreal. Instead of earth the ground shone with a metallic sheen. Dezba had never before seen anything like it. She glanced around, staring at the tall, majestic structures that graced the horizon. This place definitely wasn't in any tourist brochure that she'd seen. She stooped down and touched the shiny surface of the ground, feeling the cool, iridescent metal. She stood back up; brushing some dark locks behind her ear and turned full circle amazed at her surroundings. Where was she? Suddenly, a white mist shrouded the landscape and obscured her sight completely. She heard a soft melody play throughout the mist. It was a tune unlike any she had heard. It was a soft, comforting sound that made the body relax and cleared the mind; yet, there was power and strength within it as well. Turning quickly she tried to catch the origin of the sound. "Hello?" she called. "Can anyone hear me?" At first, she didn't think she would get a reply; the melody continued to play growing louder and softer at intervals._

"_I do."_

"_Who said that?"_

"_I did."_

_Whirling around once more, Dezba saw a silhouette within the mist. It was a tall, lean figure, human in shape, but that was all she could determine. She involuntarily took a step backwards. "Who are you?"_

"_You will know with time. But know this: you possess a great gift. Guard it well "She-Who-Goes-To-War." With those words, the figure faded into nothingness._

"_Wait! What gift? How do you know the meaning of my name!? Come back!" _

Dezba awoke with a jolt, banging the top of her head on a hard surface. "Ooww! What the…?" She glanced around, taking in her surroundings. It had been a dream, a strange at that, but then again she had been having a lot of those lately. The stars winked brightly at her through a glass canopy. To her front, multiple lights blinked and blipped across an impressive console. She turned and placed her hands on the canopy, staring at the sight before her. As far as the eye could see, clouds rolled and billowed across the heavens, like a great airborne sea. Dezba stared, awestruck. _Damn! I'm flying! How in the world…?_

"It's about time."

The realization that came with the voice hit her like a train. "You! What do want with me!? I thought you were going to kill me!" She exclaimed. All fear felt previously vanished with the dream. This thing had the perfect opportunity to kill her earlier; what was the deal?

"You say that as if you're disappointed, human," the jet chuckled darkly. "I can reconsider." The nose of the craft dipped quickly groundwards.

"Wait, wait, wait! That's not what I meant!" Dezba clenched the pilot's seat with all her might as the jet nosed into an almost vertical position before leveling out. She opened her eyes once the pitch became stable.

"Fortunately for you, fleshling, your death will not come by my hand anytime soon."

"Why do you say that? You sure as hell didn't have a problem threatening me earlier," Dezba replied, remembering the two men in the desert, and her first conversation with the flying being.

"You still haven't fully answered my question," the jet said, a dark undertone hanging on each word. "You will continue to function until it is determined how you know our language."

The black-haired woman didn't reply straight away; instead, she gazed into the depleting night, watching as the stars grew dimmer and dimmer. _What did I say, and why did I say it? Should I be grateful to be alive or dread this coming day?_

"Nothing's changed any. I still don't know where I learned your language," she stated flatly. An uncomfortable silence ensued. She really wanted to know what she had said, but her gut instinct told her now was not the time to ask.

Thundercracker chose to keep silent and not press the issue further. Answers would come soon enough. It was a puzzling situation, and Thundercracker did not like puzzling situations—they often led to trouble. He watched her from the console, taking in the medium-colored skin, straight black hair, and hazel eyes. Most humans would have freaked knowing they were inside a sentient jet, flying at high elevation. But she continued to gaze out across the sky, lost in deep thought. Very puzzling indeed. Then, the femme turned and faced the console.

"Just what are you, anyways?" she enquired.

"I am a robotic being from a planet called Cybertron. That is all you need to know for now," Thundercracker said. Annoyance creased the woman's features as she crossed her arms.

"Can I at least know your name? If I'm going to live a little longer than expected, I would at least like to know who will potentially kill me," Dezba stated.

Thundercracker chuckled to himself. He was beginning to respect this human. She didn't waste time screaming, panicking or begging for release. No, this human had more or less met him head-on once she was over her initial shock of the ordeal in the desert. He liked that quality. It also meant she was not to be underestimated. To Thundercracker, humans were mostly annoyances, but he also knew that there were some that could pose a severe threat--like the human who had killed Megatron.

"My designation in your language, fleshling, is Thundercracker," the Decepticon replied.

"Thundercracker, huh? That's an interesting name," she mused.

"No more than yours."

"What's that suppose to mean?" she asked heatedly.

"Am I to understand that your designation is Dezba Ray Collins?" he added casually.

"How in the hell do you know my name?" she demanded, sitting up straighter and balling up her fists. Her hazel eyes flashed with anger and wariness. First, she gets kidnapped, then almost murdered, then saved by a giant alien robot whose intentions may or may not be hostile, and now said robot had suddenly turned psychic? What the hell? Could this night get any weirder? Thundercracker's voice jerked her out of her reverie.

"Simple. I scanned your body and compared the results to the records that you humans keep within your primitive 'computer' systems. Your security systems are absurdly incompetent and your species insist on documenting every little physical detail," the jet said matter-of-factly.

Dezba gaped at him open-mouthed. _Well, I should have guessed that a super-advanced alien robot would more or less be able to take any information it wanted from our computer systems. Damn technology._ _I would have loved to have seen you try the same thing with paper files! _"Point taken," she said begrudgingly. "So where are you… taking…me?" She yawned. _Wow, it's been one hell of a night._

"You will find out soon enough, human," Thundercracker answered. "I suggest you recharge. Who knows? This may be your last chance."

"Gee, thanks," was the sarcastic reply. He watched as she settled herself into the seat, slowly giving in to her exhaustion. She was an interesting human, indeed. Once he had determined she was deep in recharge, Thundercracker resumed his search on this strange human. As he said earlier, he had scanned her while she was still passed out, storing every scrap of information he could about his captive. Name, address, school, driver's license, medical records there was nothing the Decepticon left uninvestigated. There was a specific reason why this human could speak Cybertronian, and he was going to find out. He was pretty certain she had no experience with the Autobots; her reactions in the desert and recently in his cockpit negated that theory. To further complete his file on Dezba Collins, he decided to extend his research to her family as well. _Hmmm…Single sparkling family unit. Daughter of Darren Collins and Anaba Richards. Darren Collins was killed before the child reached her fifth year of existence. Hmmm_, Thundercracker mused. _So her father unit now is not the one who sparked her. _However, before the Decepticon could continue, he was interrupted by a sudden flash of violet light. A jet identical to his alt mode, the F-15E Strike Eagle, appeared at his right wingtip, black and violet paint glimmering in the morning light.

"Hey TC! I was getting worried. You were due back at base three cycles ago. The Autobums didn't hold ya up, did they?" Skywarp asked.

"No, although I wish it had been them. It would have made this reconnaissance mission a whole lot easier," the blue Seeker drawled.

"What makes you say…Whoa, TC! Wait one astrosecond! Why are you transporting a squishy?" the black jet demanded. Skywarp rolled over onto his left wingtip, studying the sleeping creature in the blue Eagle's cockpit.

"That's the reason for my holdup," answered Thundercracker. "I'm taking the human to Starscream." The blue Seeker hesitated for a moment before continuing. "She knows our language, Warp."

"You're jokin', right? I mean, how's that possible? Organics can't even hear some of our frequencies, let alone speak 'em. I think your audio receptors need recalibrated, my friend." Skywarp barrel rolled lazily on the warm air current.

"Wow, Warp. You actually said something half-way intelligent. Maybe Starscream's finally rubbing off on you."

"Hey!"

"Hear listen for yourself, since you don't believe me," the blue jet interrupted before he could hear further protests. Thundercracker quickly transmitted the recorded events from the previous night as well as all the information he currently knew about the human. He watched amusedly as Skywarp's engines stalled for the briefest instance. _Funny, that's exactly how I reacted. Warp, always was one that had to see to believe. _Swiftly, the black jet regained himself.

"Primus TC. That's just…weird," Skywarp murmered after a small silence, replaying the incident over again in his CPU.

"That's why I'm taking it to Starscream: one, to keep the Autobots from finding out and two, to see if Screamer has any insight."

"What about other humans? Won't they be curious over her disappearance?" Skywarp questioned.

"I don't think so. Two other humans were trying to kill her when her transmission reached me. I find the whole set of circumstances…interesting."

"Well, here's something else you can add to that list."

"What's that?"

"The human radio broadcasting network where our little friend is from just declared her dead by suicide."


	4. From Bad to Worse

**A/N: In this chapter, I introduce Starscream into the mix. For all you comic book fans out there, my characterization of Screamer is based off the 'Reign of Starscream' series. He is much more calculating and considers Prime and Megatron both at fault for starting the War. With the AllSpark destroyed, he is mainly concerned with saving _all_ Cybertronians--Autobot and Decepticon, from extinction, then ruling over them as their new Lord. It's a good series to read, and gives an unique twist to Starscream's dreams of taking power.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TF's; Hasbro does.**

**Enough rambling...Onwards!**

**Chapter Four: From Bad to Worse**

"Miller! What is the meaning of this treachery?!I was under the impression that you were going to use the Autobots to get the girl back under _our _control; not have her declared dead by suicide!"

"Relax, Commander," Miller interjected. "It's just a little change in plans; that's all. You did say to 'use any means necessary.' I just feel that this means is a little "safer." And on second thought we don't need any more _outside_ involvement than necessary, right?"

"You're trying my patience, Miller." A pause. "Fine. I'll agree to this deviation, just this one time; however, do not, I repeat DO NOT cross me again or the next deviation you take will be to your own grave!"

CLICK.

_Sheesh. And I thought my ex-wife was a pain in the ass, _Miller mused to himself, as he placed the receiver back on the hook. Everything had gone according to plan, albeit even if it was hasty. At the last minute, Miller decided to abandon his earlier plot to use the Autobots, feeling that their involvement would encumber his movements. He didn't want to answer any more questions than necessary about the Richards' family's disappearance, especially the girl's. And the Autobots would have questions. It was best to try and deal with one set of alien robots, rather than two.

Phase One of the Commander's master plan had been executed without a hitch—raid the Richards' family home and secure the members. But it was at Phase Two where things began to fall to pieces. He had hoped to kill the daughter and to gain all necessary information from the mother, but she had committed herself to death before revealing any information. Miller had reached the end of his rope with Mrs. Richards when word came back to him that the daughter had escaped. A thought had struck him; if this thing worked like his scientists theorized then he could get all relevant information from the girl. With that, he had ordered Anaba Richards executed. Now he needed to recapture the brat before the Decepticons discovered who and what she really was. He had decided that the best way to continue this game of catch (and cover his tracks) was to have both women declared dead by "tragic circumstances". It was mainly to keep the local authorities from becoming entangled in this mess. Anaba Richards had been a particularly tricky murder to pass off as an "accident." A fake car crash was staged, his crew had "dressed" the body to appear as if it had been in a car accident, and finally a "concerned citizen" called in the incident. It was a nice, neat, and tidy way to cover up a murder. Not that the local police would be able to discover the difference anyway. Deception was Miller's specialty and it was why he was second-in-command of the world's most powerful terrorist organization.

A figure approached Miller's office door. "Come in," he announced before the figure even raised a hand to knock.

"Ahh, you're just the man I wanted to see," Miller said, lounging back in his oversized chair.

"Glad to hear it, sir," the stranger answered.

"I have to say, if you hadn't known that forger, we would have been hard pressed to cover up Dezba Collin's disappearance. Thank you for stepping up to the plate on such short notice," explained Miller, an icy smile creasing his handsome features.

"It was nothing, sir. I had a couple favors to call in and, well…you know how things go."

"I'm sure your friend will be glad to get out of the federal pen a few years early. Anyways, with the help of your little note, it appears that our poor Dezba was decimated by her mother's sudden death; they were very close, from what you tell me."

"Yes, they were. I never could completely understand what would go on between those two," the stranger added, almost to himself.

"Well, the police will spend days of fruitless effort looking for a body that doesn't exist in that damnable river. Once again I commend you on your quick thinking," Miller praised his subordinate. "And might I add, on your acting skills as well?"

"Well, thank you, sir. I was only doing my job, sir."

"And it's that kind of loyalty that will be rewarded when this is all over, Richards."

"May, I ask you a question, sir?"

"Go ahead."

"Just how do you plan to re-capture my stepdaughter? You and I both know that with her capabilities…"

"I have everything under control, Richards. Just ensure that the Autobots do not get upwind of this situation. I have gathered a strike team together of our Commander's finest. Once we pinpoint the Decepticon's base of operations, we'll kill two birds with one stone—them and her." Miller then added as an afterthought, "After we interrogate her of course." An evil glint came into Miller's eye. He wanted that girl dead, but only after she surrendered her mind. Everything he had worked for hinged on her knowledge and her death.

"Yes, sir." Richards said, his own smile lighting his face. He left Miller to dwell on his future plans. Things had only just begun.

* * *

Dawn had just broken over the horizon; the Rocky Mountain peaks were bathed in a red-orange fire as another day was born. Thundercracker had never felt happier to see the snow-capped peak that marked the location of Decepticon headquarters. His human passenger had grown increasingly restless, mumbling incoherent phrases and tossing in her sleep despite her injuries. Her core temperature had jumped incredibly high, too high for healthy human functioning. Skywarp had flown by his wingside for the remainder of the trip, constantly keeping vigil for any Autobot signatures and remaining quiet for once.

Slowly, he descended from cruising altitude and prepared his landing gear. _"Thundercracker to Starscream."_

"_What is it, Thundercracker?"_ came the raspy reply.

"_Skywarp and I are inbound with a human hostage. We're preparing to enter the base,"_ Thundercracker's deep voice ground out as he fought the wind shear within the mountains.

"_Human hostage!? What in the name of Primus…!"_ Starscream furiously sputtered.

"_Now hear me out, Screamer. I've got something you need to hear before you blow your motherboard,"_ interjected Thundercracker. He really couldn't blame Starscream for his reaction, after all this was the first time he had heard from him in almost an orn. He quickly sent the same databurst he had sent to Skywarp to Starscream and waited for his commander's reply.

"_And this came from the human?" _

"_Affirmative."_

"_I'll meet you in the entry bay," _came the terse reply as the com shut off.

"_Screamer isn't going to be too happy about this," _Skywarp said as they approached the mountainside.

"_Warp, when is Starscream ever happy?" _Thundercracker said wryly.

A chuckle came from the dark jet. "_Good one, TC."_ By this time both jets had aligned themselves for entry into base, with Skywarp in front and Thundercracker close on his afterburners. They flew into the rocky mountainside and disappeared from sight.

The Decepticon headquarters was a testament to Starscream's ingenuity and resourcefulness. What was once an abandoned military bunker, now housed the few Decepticons left on Earth. The thick, concrete walls hid their signal from Autobots and humans alike. It was also large enough for all present to walk from room to room comfortably and it was an easily defendable position. Anyone approaching from any direction would be spotted in a nanoclick. A hologram of the mountainside concealed the runway entrance. The runway then transitioned into the entry bay.

Skywarp and Thundercracker braked to a smooth stop as Starscream approached from a large doorway at the far end of the bay. Skywarp transformed first then stepped away a few paces to stand beside his commander. Thundercracker transformed slowly then stood tall, opening his canopy and revealing his human cargo. The raven-haired girl lay limply in his hand, all signs of her previous vitality evaporated. Her skin was flushed to the color of their optics and sweat had soaked what little remained of her tattered shirt. A soft groan escaped her parched lips.

Starscream's and Thundercracker's optics locked for a brief moment, after which Starscream stepped forward and scanned the human for her vitals. "Her core temperature is at a dangerous level—104.5 degrees Fahrenheit. I need to lower her temperature or otherwise she may not live through the next solar cycle," Starscream said, his gaze never leaving the young woman. "I'm surprised this flesh creature has lasted this long with such injuries," he added, glancing up at Thundercracker and leveling his crimson optics on the blue Seeker. Thundercracker only glanced back down at the human in his palm, the images of the attack flashing through his processor. Quickly, he dismissed those thoughts and passed the unconscious bundle over to Starscream's waiting hand.

"I want a full report within four megacycles." the brown Raptor called over his back as he turned and departed, heading back towards the way he had entered.

Skywarp and Thundercracker watched as their wing commander disappeared through the doorway. With a shake of his head, Skywarp walked in the opposite direction towards his quarters, pausing only once to see if his wingmate was following.

The blue Seeker was deep in thought. A strange memory continued to play through his CPU, a memory that wasn't one of his own making. Two humans were talking amiably next to a broad river. The one was an older female with long black hair and deep brown eyes. The other had its back to him. He had never seen these humans before, or so he thought; the older female did possess an air of familiarity.

"You coming, TC?" Skywarp's voice broke through the reverie.

"Huh? Oh yeah, I'm comin', Warp," Thundercracker replied distractedly, still shaking off remnants of the memory as he followed after the black wings. Things continued to get more odd.


	5. Secrets of the Human Mind

**A/N: Most will probably view this chapter as a filler, but hey, I'm not the kind of person to rush through a plot. Please enjoy, and let me know what ya think. I can't improve anything unless ya speak up :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own TFs, Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Five: Secrets of the Human Mind**

Starscream walked quickly down the darkened corridor then turned left at a junction. A few paces later he entered the Decepticon med bay, if one could call it that. It was a small room compared to the entry bay, with a large makeshift table placed at the center of the back wall. A few tools and instruments were scattered here and there and a large basin occupied one corner; besides that, the room was mostly empty.

The dusky brown Seeker strode to the table and placed the feverish human on its surface. His scans indicated that the femme had a fractured right arm, and at least two broken ribs. Multiple contusions marred her copper-colored skin, and the fever had flushed her facial features to a vivid red. She twitched and convulsed sporadically as she continued to mumble.

Starscream may have had a severe dislike for the dominant organic creatures on this planet, but warrior's prudence dictated that one know as much about your enemy as possible, no matter how little of a threat they appeared. He had a rudimentary knowledge of human medical procedure that he garnered from the internet. He quickly researched how to set broken bones and lower a human's high body temperature. At the same time, he began to peel away the remainder of the girl's clothing in order to tend to her wounds.

Fortunately, when the humans abandoned the bunker after the Cold War they did not strip the facilities bare of useful utilities—such as water. Starscream had modified the water lines in order to suit his and his Decepticon's needs. The large basin in the corner allowed the Cons to clean any medical tools they had used while in repair. He placed the nearly unconscious girl in the basin, filling it with cool spring water. Almost instantaneously her temperature dropped a few degrees. Next, he began to clean the grime and dirt that covered her body; it was a tedious task for a being so large and the injuries did not make his work any easier. _This is absurd, _he thought irritably. _Playing nursemaid to a human! Thundercracker better be right about this or I will use his wings as serving trays!_But as he continued his task, he knew that his wingmate (not mention his second-in-command) was very rarely wrong about anything and he definitely wasn't the kind of mech to chase shadows.

"_Barricade", _Starscream barked, as he opened a com link with the interceptor.

"_Yes, Starscream?" _came the reply.

"_I need you to retrieve supplies for our new 'guest.' Bring back enough food and clothing to do the human for two weeks. Try to draw as little attention to yourself as possible, change your alt mode if necessary. I do NOT want the Autobotsto get suspicious for any reason. I will give you details upon your return."_

There was a brief pause, as Barricade took in the instructions. He had not been present when Thundercracker and Skywarp returned with their 'cargo.' Needless to say, this was all news to him.

"_Very well, Starscream," _Barricade answered stiltedly. Hiding underground was bad enough for a shock trooper, but playing delivery mech was almost too much to ask. _Starscream had better have a good reason for this, _the black and white Saleen muttered to himself.

"_That's Lord Starscream," _came a deeply irate voice over the com. Barricade chuckled quietly as he headed for the entry bay to begin his mission.

Growling to himself, Starscream turned his attention back to his patient. The black-haired woman's temperature had continued to lower, although it was painfully slow. It was now time to set that arm. He placed her back onto med table and held her down with his right hand placing two fingers at her shoulder joint and using the others to hold her torso. She struggled weakly against him, tossing her head back and forth and arching her back.

"No. I won't let you... get away from me, you bastards," she whispered, struggling under his hand.

_She is still delusional, _Starscream thought. He vaguely wondered what would cause her to say such words, but quickly returned his attention back to the task. "Hold still, human. I cannot set this fracture with you squirming about," he growled down at her. Her feverish eyes met his optics briefly before she closed them again and turned her head away. Whether it was the scathing look or the tone of his voice (maybe both?) he didn't know, but the girl quieted down, her breathing haggard. Taking her arm in his left fingers, he began to move the bone back and forth, trying to place it. _How pathetic. Humans are such brittle creatures, _he mused_. _When bone slipped back into place, he placed two bars of metal on either side and bound the arm tightly with strips of clothing that had been left behind in the abandonment.

He had just finished up with the other injuries, when Thundercracker pinged him over the com. "_Your report is ready, Starscream."_

"_Very well, Thundercracker. Meet me in the communications room." _He turned to look at the human one last time, a skeptical look in his optics. There she lay bundled in cast-away clothing, fresh bandages around her chest and arm. She had finally settled into a decent recharge, though she still had a fever. There was not much to do now but wait for her to wake in order for her to reveal her secrets. But Starscream had a feeling that it would be easier said than done.

* * *

Darkness. That was all she felt. That was all she saw. Every now and then, a voice would break through. One voice was deep and familiar, with a slight metallic ring to it. The other was harsh and raspy and also had the same metallic overtones. She couldn't distinguish words; everything sounded jumbled and garbled as if coming from a badly tuned radio.

Why did she fill so hot? She felt as if her blood was on fire, that if she were any warmer she would spontaneously combust. She tossed and turned, trying to get reprieve from the boiling sensation. But the tossing and turning ignited pain. Pain like she had never known. Would there be no end to this hell?

Darkness. Why wouldn't it go away? Every time a glimmer of light would peak through and she reached for it, it would feel as if she were falling away. Then suddenly, a cool, wet sensation enveloped her body. Ooh, how it felt so good! _Please don't let this stop_. Even the dull throb of pain, couldn't drown out the feeling of such sweet coolness.

Shortly thereafter she felt weightless, as if someone were carrying her. But who? No! It was them again. They were returning to finish her off for good this time. The pressing weight on her body only confirmed it. She struggled vainly against their restraints. "No, I won't let you...get away from me you bastards!" The pressure lifted briefly, but then that raspy voice sliced through the darkness like a hot knife through butter, leaving an opening, an opening for the light. She opened her eyes only to be met with two fiery coals that seemed to burn into her very core. Coal-like eyes that must have been pulled from Hell itself. Suddenly, the darkness didn't seem all that bad. She let herself fall back into its depths, letting it drown out all the pain, all the memories, everything that she felt she couldn't handle in life anymore.

* * *

Thundercrackerfelt confused and irritated. Confused because he didn't understand where that strange memory came from and irritated because he had to give Starscream a full report within the next few cycles. He never was one to write reports. He walked down the corridor, following Skywarp's dark wings until he came to the entrance of his quarters.

Skywarp quickly became aware that the echoing footsteps behind him had stopped. He turned around to face his wingmate. "Aren't you gonna refuel, TC? You've had a pretty crazy night."

"Nah, not right now, Warp," Thundercracker said wearily. His optics had dimmed to low ruby glow. He knew he needed to refuel, but right now he really didn't feel like explaining himself to the dark Seeker over a cube of energon, not to mention he had a report to write. "You heard Screamer; I have a report that needs written. I'll catch you next time."

Skywarp stared long and hard at his friend. He knew there was something on his wingmate's mind, and he and an idea it had something to do with the human female. As much as he wanted to, he decided not to chase the idea and pester Thundercracker about his thoughts. They were probably a little too deep for his mind anyway.

"All right. Let me know if you need anything," Skywarp responded, a hint of disappointment in his voice. He gave TC one last glance over his shoulder before continuing down the corridor on his own. He knew that TC would explain things to him later; it was only a matter of time. Right now, he needed to take that time to refuel and then think of good prank to pull on Barricade—he was past due.

Thundercracker watched the black and violet wings disappear around a corner, before entering his quarters. Tiredly, he sank onto the chair placed before the desk. Other than the recharge berth, it was the only furniture in the tiny room—well, tiny by Seeker standards, anyways. His wings almost brushed either side of the room whenever he stood perpendicular to the walls.

He accessed the memory again, trying to determine when he had picked it up. This really bothered him. Cybertronians' memory banks were a sensitiveand crucial essence of their being. Since the War's beginnings, every officer and soldier had firewalls uploaded to their CPU, protecting this vital component. Should one fall into enemy hands, the firewalls were impenetrable, therefore protecting sensitive information. Short of a mech willingly giving information (or memory logs) to an enemy soldier, there was no way in the Pit the memory banks could be accessed by outside forces. To try and do so anyway would often render a mech insane. He knew; he had seen it first-hand. It had been a favorite torture tactic of Megatron's. It disturbed him to no end that a memory just "appeared" shortly after finding the girl. The girl…that was it! He quickly accessed his diagnostic records for the past orn. There it was; a miniscule energy spike had been recorded right as he had placed the human in his cockpit. Somehow, someway that small jolt, the jolt that had felt nothing more than a prick of static electricity, had something to do with this memory. The memory had never been there before he took the human. It only manifested itself afterwards.

But was it even possible? Was it possible for an organic to perform a memory transfer? He had heard that some humans could read minds, but he had never come across any information saying humans could transfer memories from one mind to another. But it only made sense that this memory had come from the human. _So the mystery deepens. Not only can this human speak our language, she can perform memory transfers. _He idly began typing his report on the computer, his thoughts still focused on the human. Now that he had an idea of what had happened to him, he felt a little more certain about what needed to be done. _I don't think I'll mention this to Starscream, not until I know for sure what the human is capable of. There is no sense in giving out unfounded information. _

With that in mind, the blue Seeker concentrated on finishing his report. When it was done, he pinged Starscream to let the other Seeker know he had finished. Once he was finished giving his report to his Commander, he would pay their human guest a little visit.


	6. A Little Heart to Spark

**A/N: Hey all. Sorry for the delay. Just got back from the Caribbean with my hubby. This chapter is a little rehash of what you all ready know, but I wrote it anyways to get in some character development and move the plot along. As I said before, I get in no hurry during storytime.**

**Chapter Six: A Little Heart to Spark**

"Miller. We have a contact," A young agent shouted excitedly from his monitor in the control room.

"Can you get an identification?" barked Miller, the thought of picking up the Collin's girl trail quickening his blood.

"Affirmative. It appears to be NBE Two…Give me one moment and I'll be able to pull its profile," the agent replied. A short pause later and, "Ah, here it is. NBE Two designates itself as Barricade. It favors the Saleen Mustang S281 police interceptor as its disguise," the agent finished quickly, then turned around in his chair and faced his superior.

"What is his location?"

"Approximately 20 miles north of Mission City, Nevada, heading due south."

"Perfect. Dispatch Bravo team. I want reconnaissance first; let it lead us to the rest of them. Under no circumstances are they to engage," Miller directed. This was the opportunity he had been waiting for. Redemption was at hand.

* * *

Barricade sat on a side street, seemingly watching all the squishies go about their daily business. _This is good,_ he chuckled to himself, _just fraggin' perfect._ He had just received a transmission from Starscream updating him on the "current situation" with the human. Well, at least now, the mission made a little more sense. But even he found it more than a little peculiar that the femme's own species would try and eliminate her, then turn around and declare to the world she killed herself. Then again, since being on this rotten mud ball of a planet nothing humans did made sense anyway.

He had completed the mission easily enough (thank Primus Hook built one hell of a holomatter generator before he left Cybertron) and was preparing to depart back to base, when he caught sight of something out of the ordinary. A black SUV had pulled onto the street and sat approximately 100 yards from his location. Ordinarily, Barricade would have ignored the humans, but there is something about a pair of binoculars focused in your direction that makes you suspicious. Never one to take chances (especially when working undercover) Barricade decided to give the humans a little test.

Double checking his holomatter projection, he engaged his drivetrain and pulled smoothly into traffic. For a few astroseconds, no large, black SUV appeared in his rearview mirror. _Maybe I'm glitching in my CPU, _he thought irritably to himself, besides why concern himself if humans were tailing him? They could be dealt with easily enough.

Several right turns and a handful of lefts later found the interceptor cruising a busy thoroughfare. Not even six seconds later, the black SUV followed. _Must be using a scanner of some sort since they are not relying on a visual, _Barricade mused. Then the Saleen chuckled to himself. _Looks like I get to have a little fun, after all! _With that last thought, the Decepticon revved his engine in anticipation, eagerly planning out his little fun session with the humans.

* * *

Slowly, reluctantly, Dezba opened her eyes to the blindingly bright light of the Decepticon med bay. The first few thoughts that entered her mind were _looks like I'm not in Kansas, anymore._ She silently laughed to herself, visualizing Dorothy waking up in her predicament. However, the slight laugh brought to the forefront the pain around her ribcage, and everything else she had tried desperately to forget in the blackness of unconsciousness. Carefully, using her one good arm, she sat up and began taking in everything around her.

She sat on a very large metal table, realizing with a start she wasn't exactly decent. Some clothing lay next to her and she quickly slipped into the old army fatigues. _This feels familiar_, she mused to herself while simultaneously taking in her surroundings. Around her various tools held a resemblance to some she had seen in her garage back home, but on the same token had that alien look to them. _Where in the world did that giant trashcan take me? _She puzzled over her situation, dredging up remnants of her last conversation with the talking jet.

_Hiss._

Dezba jumped slightly as the large sliding doors opened, permitting the devil of her thoughts to enter. _Oooh. Bad reaction, Collins,_ she scolded herself, as another wave of pain constricted her breathing. Thundercracker stood in the doorway, a hard, penetrating look in his ruby optics.

Dezba felt a slight tremor run down her spine; this was the first time she had seen her dark savior in the light. And it was a terrible, yet beautiful sight to behold. The lighting glinted off the Seeker's armor, revealing it to be a deep shade of cobalt; it was so blue it almost appeared to be black. The way it shone in the light, a flickering blue-black, reminded Dezba of an iridescent paint job she had seen on a sports car at one time. Two large wings donned the shoulders, making the robotic being appear even more massive than he was. On the margin of the wings, she could see a strip of vibrant red and a strange purple emblem centered on each. On either sides of his neck were two large air intakes; with a start she realized she had been riding in an F-15E Strike Eagle; the rest of her observation confirmed it. Before her father had died in combat, she remembered spending hours watching the military jets perform their training exercises. Dezba knew each and every type of active duty aircraft and the F-15 was no exception. From the cockpit, which made up the chest, the robot's torso narrowed slightly, leading into legs that were thick, long and powerful. His feet were broad and bird-like, with three digits pointing forwards and one pointing slightly back.

The alien before her resonated of power and danger and not all of it had to do with his size. He walked into the room, ensuring that the doors closed behind him. Each step sent small reverberations throughout the table she sat upon. They stared at one another, each taking in the other's appearance, drawing conclusions, determining strengths and weaknesses.

The human was the first to break eye contact, quickly glancing down and away to stare at the pattern on her fatigues. Thundercracker suppressed a grin; she was bold, but also knew when to back down.

"What do you want?" Dezba asked, a sullen undertone in her voice.

"Information, fleshy," came the deep, rumbling reply. She cringed upon hearing his metallic voice. It was so unnatural, so _alien_ yet here they were holding a conversation as if they were in the local coffee shop discussing business matters.

"Don't I get the chance to exercise my fifth amendment?" she joked half-heartedly, being mindful of her healing ribs.

"Hmmph. Your pathetic laws have no bearing on me, human," the blue jet responded haughtily. He gazed down on her, scorn and disgust seen clearly in his optics.

"Well hey, you know it was worth a shot," she replied. She turned her head slightly and gave the Con a sidelong glance. "What is it you want to know? I'm not sure if there is a whole lot I _can _tell you."

"I will be the judge of that, flesh crea…" Without warning the tiny human suddenly launched into a tirade that would have cowed the Unmaker himself.

"What is with you calling me flesh creature?! Or fleshy, or any other name besides the one you _know _I have! You know my name, so use it, damn it!" Instantly, she clamped her good hand over her mouth and turned away with a whirl of black trusses. She ignored the flash of pain in her chest. _Way to go, dumbass, _she cursed herself. She sneaked a look at the Decepticon, dreading what his reaction would be.

At first, the Decepticon just continued to glare at her and then his optics narrowed to mere slits. He kneeled down beside the table, the whirring and clicking of gears the only sound in the small med bay. "You have a large mouth for one so small," Thundercracker sneered. He placed his elbows on the table and laced his clawed fingers together. He then rested his broad, metallic forearms on either side of the girl, in effect boxing her in. It really wasn't a necessary move; but he just wanted to _subtly _emphasize his position in these proceedings.

Dezba flinched as the massive arms of the alien rested on either side of her. She glanced at one then other as if to confirm she really was trapped. Then again, it wasn't as if she could just up and run anyway; he was making a point, namely the I-am-in-control-and-there-is-nothing-you-can-do-about-it kind of point. Slowly, so as not to jar her injuries any more than necessary, she turned back around and faced him fully. She stared morosely at her fatigues, wondering just when the nightmare would end.

"Now then, _Collins," _Thundercracker began, sarcasm dripping off her name, "tell me exactly what happened that led up to our meeting in the desert." He leaned down closer, until his faceplates were inches from her.

Dezba imagined that she could feel the heat radiating from his gaze, but she hardened her resolve, straightened her back and met the Con's stare with her own. Slowly she recounted everything that she remembered that happened that dreadful evening, from the raid, to her and her parent's separation, to the order given for her murder, and to the horrible car ride she endured with the underlings Dan and Jake.

When she had finished, Thundercracker's intense stare did not lessen; he continued to look at her as if she were still speaking. Slowly, he pulled away from his proximity to the human and brought a clawed finger to rest on his chin as if deep in thought.

"Do you know why they wanted me killed? Or why they attacked us in the first place?" She queried after several moments of quiet.

"Silence!" The blue jet snapped, causing Dezba to shrink back in fear, all her previous courage evaporated.

The girl's story certainly complicated matters. Did they know she could speak Cybertronian and therefore wanted to eliminate her as a threat to the human race? No, that didn't make sense. Using her as a tool against his kind would be more logical. But once again, why kill her? She had said the two humans he had killed were shocked at her outburst. Was this just another random act of human cruelty? No. According to her account, the humans were well organized and seemed to be following orders. Then there was the little issue Skywarp uncovered. Even though she wasn't killed that night the human's local news network had announced her death as a suicide as a result of her mother's car accident. Things weren't adding up. Dezba had said her parents were taken away by the attackers. And what about his little memory mix-up—where did that fit in with all this?

Several long moments passed as Thundercracker wrestled with this complicated conundrum. A slight movement caught his attention. He glanced over to where the human had settled herself closer to his other forearm; she seemed to be preoccupying herself with studying the intricacies in his armor. The slight break in concentration reminded him of his one other question he wanted to ask.

"Do you recognize this human?" Thundercracker asked suddenly, projecting a hologram of the individual that was within the strange memory.

The sudden question caused Dezba to jump slightly. "What?"

The Seeker growled loudly and repeated the question. "Do you recognize this human?!"

Dezba stared open-mouthed at the projection in front of her. Tenderly, she stood and walked toward it as if in a trance. "Yes," she whispered. "That is my mother. But how? How did you…?" She trailed off, lost for words.

"I will show you," came the short reply. With that, Thundercracker projected the memory onto the table top, replaying everything he had seen. Dezba stared in awe as the projection showed her and her mother conversing amiably beside the river at their home. It was the last conversation she had had with her mother, one-on-one, before the raid on their household. The memory played across the table like a 3-D movie; it was exactly how she herself remembered it.

"I don't understand," she moaned. "How did you do that? Were you like spying on us or something?" Anger tinged her voice, as she struggled with what she had just seen. At this time, Dezba felt a whirlpool mixture of emotions rushing through her veins. First she had felt fear, then determination. Now she felt confused and angry. Was there something this sentient toaster oven wasn't telling her? _Did _he know why she was marked for dead?

Thundercracker approximated the robotic equivalent of a snort. "Hardly, fleshy. I usually don't make it a habit to spy on worthless pieces of organic matter." He watched her bristle at the use of the derogatory name, and was pleased at her reaction. He continued. "When I picked you up after you went into stasis back in the desert, your body shocked me." A look of utter confusion crossed her features. Rolling his optics, he elaborated. "I felt a jolt pass through my processors, much like when you humans feel a shock from touching low voltage electric wires. I didn't really think it was important at the time, but after I brought you her that image appeared in my memory processing core. A feat that is next to impossible without my consent."

Dezba quickly forgot her anger as she tried to process all that the alien had told her. She furrowed her brow in concentration and held the bridge of her nose with her left hand. "Are you trying to tell me that I like…I don't know…like somehow downloaded one of my memories to you?"

"Affirmative." He nodded his helm one time.

"But that's crazy! That stuff only happens in science fiction movies! I can't do that kind of stuff, can I?" She stopped her raving and pacing and looked back up at the blue Con.

"I don't know how you did it, but the fact is you did. I never knew you existed until two days ago," He paused and narrowed his optics. "But I believe it is somehow related to your speaking of Cybertronian." He stood up then, and began to slowly pace around the med bay, stretching joints and actuators that had been in the position for too long. His cobalt armor glimmered under the lighting with each fluid movement.

"You think so?"

Thundercracker nodded again. In his processor he was debating whether or not to tell her about her supposed suicide. It was a sensitive piece of information; he opted to withhold it for now. "Yes, I do but I have yet to make the connection." He walked back over to the door, entered the code and waited for it open with another hiss. "As for why those other humans wanted you dead, maybe it's because you talk too much," he smirked.

As he predicted, Dezba rose to the bait. "Why you over-grown walking trash compactor! If I could I'd use your wings as surf boards, you over-bearing, egotistical, arrogant, chauvinistic son of a…"

"Get some recharge, Dezba. Commander Starscream will speak to you within six cycles. And don't mention our little talk to him or else." With that, Thundercracker closed the door behind him and left the dumb-struck human still standing on the table, mouth agape.

She stared after him, shock rooting her in place. _He said my name. He called me by my name, that bastard!_

**_A/N, PS: Stick around for the next chapter to see 'Cade taking names and kickin' ass! Don't forget to leave a review on your way out. Many thanks!_**


	7. Turning the Tables

**A/N: Just to let you know now, this chapter is rated M for violence (better safe than sorry). I had a lot fun writing this chapter. Special thanks to my husband for helping me overcome writer's block. Please enjoy; this chapter goes out to all you Barricade fans out there! Don't forget to review!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TF's; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Seven: Turning the Tables**

"We're not getting anywhere with this. I'm tellin' you he's onto us," the agent riding shotgun said to his partner. They had been tailing Barricade for the better part of half an hour and all the police cruiser had done was give them one of the nicest tours of Mission City they had ever had.

"Quit your grumbling. He's just trying to blend in with the surroundings, you know, cop stuff. Besides, we've been trailing far enough behind _I know _he hasn't seen us. Dr. D's equipment hasn't failed us yet, has it?"

"Well, no it hasn't," the other shorter agent replied. He fingered the small scanner he held in his lap. "Dr. D" had designed it to pick up Cybertronian energy signals from great distances, making any type of reconnaissance mission fairly easy. "But I've got a funny feeling about this…" he trailed off and licked his pale lips.

"You've always got a funny feeling, Charlie. Give it a rest, will ya?" Dawson turned his attention back to the road. Despite his assurances, he too was beginning to feel a little uneasy about the mission. Dusk was settling around the city and they had entered the "rougher" side of town. Blocks and blocks of abandoned and "semi-abandoned" warehouses lined the streets. As of now, the signature was leading them down the eastside of the rail yard. Homeless persons cried out to the dark vehicle, while others stalked in the shadows and hid their faces from view.

"Hey, this a perfect hiding place, right Charlie?" Dawson said, trying to lighten the mood and drown out his own concerns. "Only the crazies and hobos live here and no one would believe them if they saw anything."

Charlie said nothing as he looked down at the scanner. Suddenly, the little blip they had been tracking disappeared all together. "Uh, Dawson. We have a problem. He's gone," the shorter agent said, a twinge of worry lining his pudgy features.

"What do you mean gone? That's impossible. Dr. D said that thing could pick them up within a 200-mile radius." Dawson reached over and grabbed the scanner from his partner. Sure enough the little screen was as empty as the banks on holiday. "What the hell?" He muttered under his breath.

Darkness had clothed the trainyard in inky blackness by this time. Dawson slowly pulled off the road and into a small alleyway. He quickly flicked on the cabin light and began giving the scanner a once-over.

"Hey, D-Dawson, we have c- company of the cop kind," Charlie stuttered. Dawson whirled around, drawing his specially modified handgun at the same time. Another one of Dr. D's inventions, the handgun was designed to fire bullets that were hot-loaded for a magnesium burn. It was one of the few weapons with any potency to harm the NBEs.

However, Dawson relaxed marginally, when he saw a human officer step from the vehicle. In the flashing of the lights, Dawson observed that car was a solid color, not black and white as their subject had been. On another comforting note, the headlights were wrong for this cop car to be a Mustang. He instantly recognized the distinctive Dodge Charger shape.

The officer approached their vehicle with flashlight in hand. A few seconds later and he knocked on the glass. Dawson cracked the window and waited to be addressed by the officer.

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" the officer inquired.

"No, sir," Dawson replied with a grin. "We're just trying to figure out how to work this confounded navigation system. We just bought it, you see, and thought we'd give it try coming back from our business meeting."

"Well, I _hate _to inform you, sir, but yes, you do have a problem," Dawson blinked several times as he watched the officer lower his head to hide an evil grin.

"What do you mean, officer?" asked a genuinely confused Dawson.

"Me."

When the officer looked back up, Dawson noticed too late the officer's name badge. _**Officer B. Kade. **_The sound of metal grinding on metal assaulted his ears as Dawson turned and saw the cruiser begin to change shape.

"Oh _SHIT! Run Damn it, run!" _He cried, as he made to open the door of the SUV. The "officer" easily held the door in place, barring him from exiting. Charlie had all ready made his escape, running like a fox before the hounds down the alley. Before Dawson even thought of crossing the short distance to the passenger side door, two massive hands grabbed the SUV on either side. The ear splitting screech of protesting metal accosted him, and he quickly tried to bring the gun to bear. Suddenly, the roof collapsed as if a wrecking ball had been dropped onto the vehicle. Glass shattered everywhere, covering the terrified human in glittering shards. Again and again, the robotic being struck the roof until the SUV was a fraction of its original height.

As quickly as it had begun, it ended. Shaking like a pair of maracas, Dawson cracked an eye open and viewed his position from the vehicle's floorboard. Silence. Was it over? Twisting and groaning he managed to turn himself around and stare through the crumpled metal that had once held the windshield. Nothing. He chanced a glance around, and saw to his horror that the SUV had been systematically crushed to eliminate every possible exit.

Then he felt, rather than heard the footsteps. The vehicle lurched violently upwards and Dawson knew that the non-biological entity had picked it up.

"Finish me, damn it!" he cried, claustrophobia slowly taking its hold on him.

"Not just yet, fleshy," a deep baritone, metallic voice filled the vehicle. "I'm not quite finished with you yet." A deep chuckle followed those last words. Dawson paled, and totally lost all his self-sacrificing bravado. "Please, _PLEASE_ let me go. I'll…I'll tell you anything! Anything you need to know…want t-to know. Just please let me go!" Tears were streaming down his cheeks by this point, mingling with the blood from the cuts on his face.

Barricade ignored the man's pleas and continued the short trek to the rail yard. He soon came to a large crossing; pure malice filled all four of his optics and an evil grin split his face. Placing the crumpled vehicle in the center of the tracks, he knelt down to bid the human farewell.

"You and your people will regret the day that you believed you could deceive a Decepticon, maggot!"

"What in the hell are you talking about?" Dawson cried, desperation ringing in his voice.

"Did you honestly think you could track _me, _and believe that I would not notice? You are more foolish than the Autobots," the interceptor growled. Dawson cringed at hearing the mockery in the alien's voice.

A train horn pierced the short silence that had fallen between the two. "Well, earth scum, it looks like you have a train to catch." A deep, evil laugh resonated high above Dawson. "I wouldn't want to keep you waiting." He heard the strange sound of the being transforming back into its vehicle form, and then heard the powerful revving of an engine.

"Wait! You can't leave me here! You son of bitch!" But his words were drowned out in the peeling of tires and the wail of a train horn.

"Oh, Lord in heaven forgive me…"

From a secluded alleyway across the tracks, Barricade watched with morbid fascination as a large fireball erupted from the crossing. Shrapnel and flames engulfed the passenger train's engine before the train itself derailed and sent several cars scattering across the yard. Barricade could hear the cries of trapped, injured and dying; it was music to his audios. It had been too easy. For once Starscream's advice about changing his alt mode had been useful. His thoughts drifted back to the scene before him. As much as he would have loved to stay and revel at the carnage, he still had one more squishy to take care of.

Charlie briefly paused two alleyways over from where the initial attack had occurred. He heard no sound of pursuit, or for that matter any sound indicating his partner had made it out alive. All of a sudden, he heard a large explosion followed by a loud shriek of metal coming from the direction of the train yard.

"Oh my God," he whispered. Wiping his brow, he took several steps backwards before continuing his flight. Charlie covered another 100 yards before he had to pause and stop for breath again. Even as a child he had never been in the best of shape. He stood in another alley, hands on his knees breathing heavily. Small droplets of sweat dripped from his nose to the filthy pavement.

The soft purr of an engine drifted across the stillness. With a start, Charlie looked up to see the black and white Mustang sitting at the end of the alley. "No, no, no, no, no…" the man mumbled, fleeing in the opposite direction. The Sector Seven agent tripped and stumbled over various bits of debris littering the small street. He glanced over his shoulder stunned that there was no giant alien robot pursuing him. Not wasting another moment, he continued his mad flight out of the alley. Shortly after, he came to one last alley which led straight to a bustling street.

"Yes! That metal freak wouldn't think of revealing himself this close to this many people," Charlie exclaimed to himself. Salvation was near at hand.

"Don't count on it."

A powerful hand grabbed the short man on the shoulder and whipped him around. Charlie paled to a ghostly, almost translucent white as he stared into the crimson eyes of the police officer who had spoken with them earlier. Glancing over the broad shoulder of the "officer," Charlie gulped loudly when he saw the black and white interceptor.

"P-P-PLEASE! Don't kill me! P-p-please! I'll give anything you want! Just don't kill me...we were only following orders…we…"

"Silence! You babbling worm!" A vicious backhand blow caught the groveling human square on the jaw, sending him careening into the brick wall lining the alley.

"I believe you humans use the phrase 'you're under arrest' for situations like this," the dark-haired officer said oily. He reached down and grasped Charlie just above the elbow on the underside the arm and twisted—hard. With a sharp crack the bone broke causing the frightened man to howl in pain.

Barricade pulled the screaming human to his feet (using the broken arm) and clamped a hand firmly over his mouth. "You're coming with me, meatbag. I have a few questions for you. Answer them and I might let you live." Kicking like a rabid mule, Charlie fought the iron grip that held him, but to no avail. Within seconds he was tossed into the rear of the Mustang, the seat belts wrapping around him like pythons, firmly holding him in place.

The Saleen reversed and drove back into the forest of warehouses and dilapidated buildings. Several unsettling minutes later, the cop car entered a very old warehouse. Releasing the seat belts, Barricade opened his passenger side door and allowed the human to crawl out.

Charlie literally crawled away from the cruiser doing his level best to get away from the metallic demon. Barricade transformed smoothly, and watched with disgust as the human wormed his way away from him. Taking two steps he easily overcame the fleshling, snatching him up with one clawed hand.

The human cried out in pain and fear, but a quick shake of Barricade's hand silenced him. "Now, answer me, worm. Why were you following me?"

"Y-you'll let me go if I tell you everything?" Charlie stuttered, fear permeating the air around him. Barricade nodded his head one time.

"Promise?" the human pressed.

"Yes, I promise fleshbag, but only if your answers are satisfactory," Barricade growled, a hard glint in his blood-red optics. "Now ANSWER ME!

Charlie gulped loudly, but answered the question. "We were sent by Sector Seven to follow you to your base of operations."

"Sector Seven was disbanded after the Battle of Mission City," the Decepticon rumbled, narrowing his optics to red slits.

"Officially, yes, we were. But shortly after that a benefactor took up our case. Some of us weren't ready to throw in the towel, you know. So this guy hired those of us who wanted to continue and kinda like turned the agency into a private operation, you know? So now, we work for him."

"Who is this benefactor you speak of?"

"I don't know." Barricade's grip tightened around the pudgy agent. "I really don't know!" the man gasped. "No one does except for Miller. He calls him the Commander."

The fist loosened ever so slightly.

"Who is this Miller?"

Charlie took a moment to catch his breath then continued, sweat pouring from his brow all the while. "He's like our SIC. Whatever the Commander wants, he tells Miller and then Miller tells the rest of us."

"What does he want now, and what does it have to do with us Decepticons?" Things were getting interesting now; Barricade brought the human closer to his face, so close Charlie could see his reflection in the creature's optics.

"He-he wants a girl named D-Dezba Collins. I don't know why. Only that she was supposed to be killed, until one your allies interfered. They had to cover up her disappearance somehow, so they staged a mock suicide note. I think they're hoping it will keep the legit fuzz off their backs, you know? That's when me and Dawson were dispatched to follow you, hoping that you'll lead us to her, that is if you haven't killed her yet."

Barricade chuckled darkly. "Perhaps we have, fleshy. What about it?"

"Well, I guess you made our life a little easier," Charlie replied, not sure if it was a trick question or not.

"Why is she so important to Sector Seven?" Barricade suddenly demanded. A hot fire lit his optics.

"I don't know that either. Only that we needed the mom too. Something about their family history having something to do with a great treasure, I don't know. Miller seemed to think they were loose cannons, a threat. He doesn't even want those other aliens to know about them."

"Hmmm. Interesting. Very interesting indeed," the Con mused to himself. "You've done well, fleshie. Now, answer this one last question in order to gain your freedom." A wicked gleam flashed over Barricade's visage, but Charlie didn't seem to notice. He placed the human back onto the ground. Barricade then transformed his hand into his spiked flail, carefully observing each and every point. "Where can I find this Miller?" He asked, not even casting a glance at the human who was edging away from him.

"He'll be at the main base. A place called the Boneyard. That's all I know. Can I go now?"

Barricade gave his flail a slight turn before replying. "Yes, leave before I change my mind, earth germ." He grinned to himself, observing the mirror-like sheen on his weapon.

Charlie quickly edged his way around the metallic monster, and then sprinted across the empty floor as fast as his legs could carry him.

Without warning the Decepticon whirled around in a blur of black and white wind and impaled the fleeing human through the back. A gurgled scream was quickly extinguished as Barricade flicked the spikes and sent the body flying into the far wall. A soft thump was heard and then silence.

"Awe. Looks like I changed my mind. Too bad," the Decepticon scout suppressed a laugh then stored his flails away. "_Barricade to Starscream."_

"_Yes, Barricade?"_

"_I'm enroute back to base."_

"_Affirmative See you shortly. Starscream out."_

Barricade quickly transformed into his alt form and peeled out of the warehouse. Fun time was over.


	8. Shared Hauntings

**A/N: Well, here's Chapter 8 for your reading enjoyment. Enjoy and let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Eight: Shared Hauntings**

"You're lying!"

Starscream growled in irritation and he held the bridge of his nose in one clawed hand.

"I don't believe you!" Dezba lashed out in anger. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her face was flushed to a bright, burning red, and her black locks hung in tangled webs framing the intense sadness within her hazel eyes.

"Believe what you will, human, but the fact remains," Starscream hissed, "you're still here with _us."_

Starscream's words rang with finality in Dezba's mind. If she had thought her meeting with Thundercracker went a little rough, her meeting with Starscream was a wild ride through a minefield. After getting over her shock of Thundercracker actually saying her name in a halfway decent manner, she had taken his advice and gotten some sleep. Sometime later, Barricade had entered the med bay to summon her to see Starscream. Of course to Dezba, this was the first time she had actually seen the intimidating cop cruiser, and she wasn't about to trust him with open arms. However, she was still feeling stiff and sore from her injuries and didn't have much of a choice when the mech had grabbed her rather unceremoniously and had carried her out into the corridors. She had been taken to a large room filled with equipment she could only guess did Lord knew what and had been dropped right into the middle of the floor (all of which wasn't too good on the ribs). Barricade left directly after. The one called Starscream (whom she quickly found out had doctored her) immediately began an interrogation, not unlike the one Thundercracker had given her. She had answered his questions pretty much the same, but left out the particular tidbit that the large blue jet had "requested" she not mention. In fact, just as he had asked, she neglected to mention anything about the conversation she had had earlier. The thought of why she still did that haunted her mind. At the end of his questioning, the Decepticon leader had stated flatly that she had been declared dead among her people, and her mother had been killed in a car accident. As proof of his statement he had played the radio broadcast recorded by Skywarp.

It was the most crushing blow she had ever received, mental or physical: the death of her mother. "Why…but how!? She was taken! Nothing is making sense anymore! Why is this happening, please, tell me!" she wailed. Grief continued to flood her eyes, her body racked by harsh sobs. Dezba then fell to her knees, not caring about her current predicament. In fact, she wished with all her heart and soul that these beings would see fit to waste her then and there, completing what the agents had intended so long before.

Her mind tried desperately to process what the beige Seeker had said. Was it really true? But how? Why? She thought she was the one that was supposed to have been killed, not her mother. Was it really an accident? And what of her stepfather? Did he still live? Or was he still being held? Her thoughts drifted to happier times she had shared with her family.

Her and her mother had always been exceptionally close even after her father's death and the remarriage. They had shared so many secrets, so many happy occasions and now, none of that would ever happen again. Like a slap to the face, one memory stung her mind with the intensity of a thousand hornets, the memory Thundercracker had shown her. A fresh river of tears sprang forth and Dezba felt an intense hurt deep within her soul and within her mind. She suddenly saw flashes of that strange landscape that had haunted her dreams her first night with the Decepticons, only this time she saw robots scattered across it, as if a great battle had taken place. Dezba felt like she was on a train, speeding by the landscape, catching glimpses of individuals she had never seen before. Howls of pain and mourning pummeled her mind, she clearly saw death, pain and sorrow in each metal figure that flashed by. Then with a blur of black fog, the strange images vanished. And once again she felt the weight of her own loss.

Starscream stood to one side, observing the girl with a calloused eye. Then, in the midst of her sorrow and pain, Starscream saw a strange thing begin to occur. Dezba's hazel eyes turned an icy blue-white. Her broken English sobs turned into ancient Cybertronian chanting, a death song that Starscream had not heard in millennia. He stared in absolute shock, now witnessing first -hand what Thundercracker had reported. The song was filled with agony and pain, the likes of which he had only ever heard on the battlefield. The song continued for at least three minutes and as quickly as it began, it ended. The human's eyes returned to their natural color and she slowly sank to the floor, crying quietly.

With the strange phenomena over with, Starscream saw that he would not be getting any further in his interrogation today; the human had degenerated into a sobbing, watery flesh pile. But she had left him with _plenty_ to contemplate. With his CPU still spinning over the recent event, he commed Barricade to inform him that the prisoner was ready for her cell.

The black and white interceptor entered the communications room only to be assailed by more cries of sorrow coming from the deranged girl. With utter disgust dripping from his optics, he picked the weeping mass up and carried her from the room.

Starscream watched him depart, wondering if telling the human about her and her mother's sudden death was such a good revelation. The outbreak of Cybertronian death chanting had been completely unexpected; she didn't seem as if she'd be stable ever again. Oh well, only time would tell. If she became a liability, he could always finish what the agents had begun. But for now, he had opened up the prime window of opportunity to pull her closer to his side, to earn her trust and figure out this mysterious gift. If and when she got over her grief, he would cultivate her desire for revenge and use it to his own advantage.

* * *

It had been one long day for Thundercracker. After leaving Dezba in the medbay, he had gone to fetch his daily energon ration and then retired to his quarters to mull over all that Dezba had told him. He was certain that her assailants were the same ones that had tried to pass her off as dead as well as killed her mother. The reports had stated that her mother had been in a car accident, but everything seemed…too coincidental. If she had been taken by these men, then where was the report of their deaths or injuries? There weren't any, only the mother. Therefore, he knew foul play was at hand.

Tiredly, Thundercracker reached over and finished off his energon cube. Why was this bothering him anyway? Why did he care who killed who for what reason? What gain was there in this whole situation for him? These questions plagued him until he decided to try and get some recharge. He stood up from his desk, turned and was about to settle on his berth when a flash of pain struck him in the CPU.

"Aaarrgghh!" The burly jet fell to his knees, his wings clipping the wall and adding to the pain. An image flashed across his mind, the image that he had shown the human only a few cycles ago. The pain grew almost unbearable; it felt as if someone were beating him upside the helm with a sledge hammer. More images flooded his CPU, images that he had never seen before, images of mechs and femmes crying out in pain. A battlefield image assaulted him, as if he was there witnessing the carnage in real time. Then Thundercracker realized this was the first battle of their Great War.

He clutched his head growling in agony and frustration. Gusts of hot air flowed from his intakes; his interior cooling fans hummed madly trying to chill his overheating systems. Where in the name of Primus was this coming from!?

The pain slowly subsided, leaving in its wake a thick black fog. A deep sadness overpowered his thought processes. Its presence foreign, yet familiar. For some reason, Thundercracker had an overwhelming urge to check on the human. He sensed that she was the cause for this malignant suffering.

Wobbling unsteadily and still slightly pain-drunk, he staggered to the door determined to figure out what in the Pit was wrong. As he entered the corridors he heard crying in the distance. He followed the sobbing sounds, coming to a solid metal door after a few astroseconds. _What in the name of Primus?_ There was no way he could have heard those sounds all the way back to his quarters from here, even with his keen hearing.

He opened the heavy door, its hinges creaking loudly. There in one of the makeshift cells of the bunker lay Dezba Collins.

* * *

Dezba never really felt Barricade carry her from the communications room, nor did she feel him tossing her into a cold, dank holding cell. She only felt sorrow, pain and grief. She lay on the dank floor, prone on her stomach with her arms wrapped around her head. Her eyes were raw and puffy from tears and her face glistened in the feeble light. She was truly alone; her father was dead and now, so was her mother (if Starscream was to be believed).

She did not know how long she had been laying there when she felt a powerful and assertive presence flood her mind. Not several seconds later, the door to her prison chamber opened revealing Thundercracker's broad form. He strode to the bars, covering the distance in three great strides and gazed down at her prone figure. As she looked up into his optics, Dezba could have sworn she saw pity flash within their red depths for the briefest moment. The giant blue Eagle knelt down to be more at her level and Dezba quickly struggled to her hands and knees, backing away into a corner.

It was within those cell walls that Thundercracker discovered he now shared more with this human than just a simple memory. He could literally feel the raw fear, sorrow, angst, and anger radiating from the tiny human, buffeting his mind as waves pound the seashore during a storm. It was a sensation he had never felt before.

"You know I will not harm you," he stated simply.

"I know," she whispered, turning her head away. With her black hair hanging to her shoulders, her upper body almost blended into the walls. "I just want to be left alone."

Thundercracker pondered her answer then chose his next words with caution. "Do you know why I'm here?"

Many minutes rolled by and Thundercracker felt that she had chosen to ignore him. It was taking all his self restraint to not go back on his word, and throttle the girl. He hated being ignored. Then a thought occurred to him; maybe, if he could feel her thoughts then maybe she could feel his. It would be worth a shot, given her decrepit condition. He closed his optics and concentrated on his thoughts. _Soundwave should be doin' this sort of thing, not me, _he thought with irony. Tentatively, he reached out to the girl.

Dezba jerked as if a whip had slashed her across the back. That strange, assertive presence brushed her mind again. She recoiled from it, but it held a hint of familiarity. _Dezba?_

With shocked eyes, she stared up at the Decepticon in front of her prison. "Thundercracker?" she whispered questioningly.

He opened his optics and met her bewildered hazel eyes. Slowly, she crawled from her corner and sat cross-legged before him. Her tear-stained face gazed into his crimson optics. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" the Con replied, a sly grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. She stared at him, mouth open. "I was hoping that _you_ could explain it to _me,_" he added.

"What do you mean I could explain it to you?" She took the back of her hand and wiped her eyes, trying hard to pay attention to what Thundercracker was telling her. This strange new development had temporarily stemmed her grief.

He paused, trying hard to figure out the best way to phrase what he wanted to say. "I believe we now have more in common than just a simple memory exchange," Thundercracker explained. Her bewildered expression amused him, as he continued his explanation. "I can feel your thoughts, Dezba Collins, as I'm sure you can feel my own." His words ended in a harsh whisper.

"How," came her simple question.

"I don't have the answer, only that while I was in my quarters a few breems ago, I was overwhelmed by these thoughts, images and emotions that were not my own. One image in particular came to me in clarity—the one I had shown you. I knew you were linked to this happening."

"I don't know what to say. What can I say," she stated evenly, her eyes lowering to the ground. She fiddled her fingers trying to think of what else to say. After a moment she spoke again. "What else did you see?"

His blood-colored optics bore into her as he made his reply. "I saw Cybertron, my home planet, and the very first battle that sparked our War. I saw mechs and femmes screaming in agony from their battle wounds and felt their pain." He lowered his optics, trying to douse the memory. Her next reply regained his attention.

"I saw the same thing, too," Dezba murmured quietly. _So that was his home planet that I saw in my first dream,_ she thought to herself.

_You've seen my home world before?_

She jumped at the sudden unasked question, looking at him in disbelief. "I told you I could feel your thoughts," he chuckled quietly and then grew solemn. He stood up, typed a code into a control panel, opened the cell, and then reached down an open hand to the girl. "Come. We have much to discuss."

She hesitated ever so slightly, then shakily rose to her feet and stepped into the proffered hand.


	9. Midnight Visitations

**A/N: The plot is beginning to thicken! Any guesses as to who Sector Seven's Commander is? Let me know what your thoughts are, and I'll tell you if your correct or not. ;)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Nine: Midnight Visitations**

Miller furiously threw the portfolio containing the report of Bravo team's failed attempt to follow the Decepticon. Papers flew in every direction, showering the room in an angry deluge.

"Son of a bitch!" The curse hung in the air, while the angry Sector Seven director ran his hands through his chocolate-colored hair. When the Commander got word of this recent failure, his head would be on a pike. What was it going to take to take to get that wench back?

The telephone on his desk shrilled loudly, breaking his concentration. "Miller speaking."

"You incompetent fool!"

_Oh boy. Here we go, _he thought.

"What is it going to take to capture that girl?!"

_Funny, that's exactly what I was thinking._

You've let her slip through your hands not once but twice! Explain yourself."

"Well, Commander, sir. You see…"

"Enough excuses! This is strike two, Miller. If you know anything about baseball, I suggest you come up with a plan that will work next time!"

_Click._

_Damn it. _Well, there was nothing left to do but try to work out a new method of retrieving the girl and hope that he didn't strike out on this one.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Dezba asked, throwing a glance upwards to catch Thundercracker's eye. She sat comfortably in his hand, her legs tucked underneath her.

"To my quarters. There we'll have some semblance of privacy and little chance of anyone listening in," he gruffly replied, cocking an optic down in her direction.

"Oh."

Silence fell between them; the only sound in the corridors being Thundercracker's footsteps. In present time they came to the door of his quarters. The large jet lifted up his free hand, preparing to type in the entrance code.

"Wait. What if someone comes to check my prison cell?" she questioned.

"I highly doubt it. Since Starscream has already interrogated you, he'll have no need of you until at least in the morning. Plus, there was no one guarding your cell when I came; if he wanted someone to guard you, then a guard would have already been in place," he paused briefly looking down at her, then he grinned slightly. "If I know Screamer, he won't view you as a threat, not in the condition I saw you." Thundercracker proceeded to enter the code. A small hiss sounded as the door opened; he quickly stepped inside and scanned the corridor one last time, ensuring they were alone. With another hiss the door slid closed.

"Gee, it's nice to know I'm held in such high regard around here," Dezba drolly replied. She felt him shake faintly and heard his rumbling chuckle. He placed her on the desktop and then settled himself in the chair, his great wings thrown into sharp relief by the light shining above and behind him.

"Now, let's get down to business," the Seeker said, the humorous glint in his optics replaced by a deep seriousness. "You mentioned that you have seen my homeworld before; tell me about it."

It was more of a demand than a request, but Dezba really didn't mind. Perhaps she would finally get some answers to the strange occurrences that had taken place over the past few days, then again maybe she wouldn't; but, for some bizarre reason she was glad to be speaking with the Decepticon about the happenings and was somewhat relieved she wasn't the only one having to deal with the reverberations.

Slowly and carefully she related every detail she had had about that strange dream while unconscious in his cockpit. She even described the being who had spoken with her and all that he told her. After she had finished her account, she watched Thundercracker warily in order to gauge his reaction. To her surprise, he didn't even blink an optic; in fact it appeared as if he were thousands of miles away. His elbows were resting on the table and he had his chin cupped in his hands; he appeared deep in thought.

"Thundercracker?" she queried, cautiously placing a hand on his forearm armor. Her slight touch broke him from his trance. He stared down at her, his red optics lit with a fiery glow; a frown forming on his mouth before he diverted his gaze once more.

"She-Who-Goes-to-War," he whispered, almost to himself.

She glanced questioningly up at him, confusion wrinkling her face. "Say that again."

"She-Who-Goes-to-War. That was how the figure in your dream addressed you, is it not?" he asked, focusing on her once more.

"Well, yeah it was. What about it?"

"That is the translation of your name in the Navaho language," he stated matter-of-factly. She stared at him, mouth open in surprise. "You did not know this?"

Dezba shook her head to clear away the shock before answering him. "No, er uh, I mean yeah, yes! I just never really thought about it before. I mean, what's in a name?" _And how did he know I was Navaho?_

"First of all _human, _if your memory circuits weren't glitched you would remember that I can access any information I desire through your World Wide Web; therefore, finding the origin of your name wasn't really that difficult. Second, in _my _culture, your name is something to be proud of, something you strive to bring as much glory and honor to as possible. It is how a warrior will be remembered over time." Thundercracker glowered down at her; if he looked at her any harder, Dezba feared she'd burst into flames from the heat of his gaze.

_Geeze, I gotta remember he can read my mind now._

_Like I said, maybe your memory circuits are glitched._

"Damn you," Dezba spat but the words lacked the heat to make them meaningful.

The irritation left his optics and he chuckled once again. "You're amusing, Dezba Collins."

A flush rose in her cheeks and she quickly averted her gaze. "Well, uh, anyways, what does the meaning of my name have to do with my 'gift'?" she asked, trying to get back to the subject at hand.

"Maybe nothing," he said with a shrug of his shoulders, "but seeing as how it literally means you're going to war, and we are currently in a war, I find it more than coincidental."

"_We're_ in a war?" Dezba cocked an eyebrow; this was certainly news to her.

"Ahh, that's right. I never finished telling you just exactly who and what I am." Thundercracker leaned back in his chair a distant look on his face; and so, he recounted the Great War that had ravaged his home planet, Cybertron. He told her that the Decepticons had become restless under the corruption of the Council and how they began to long for change. He spoke of the joint leadership between his leader Megatron and Optimus Prime and how the brother's relationship deteriorated over differences in leadership style. Finally, the brothers went their separate ways and the War began. The conflict quickly escalated into a struggle over the AllSpark and its immense power. Thundercracker related how Optimus had cast the AllSpark into space in an attempt to stall Megatron and how Megatron followed it to Earth, bringing with him their War. Thundercracker finished his tale by telling Dezba how he was one of the first waves of troops to respond to Starscream's call for revenge when the Second-in-Command had returned to Cybertron with news of Megatron's defeat.

He didn't leave anything out; he didn't sugar-coat the facts to sway her in his favor. Thundercracker explained everything as objectively as possible. With their newfound telepathic bond, he knew she would discover the raw facts sooner or later; there was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

When he had finished speaking, Dezba slowly sat down, bringing her knees up to her chest. She sat in silence for several long moments, trying to digest all that the blue jet had told her. Her head sank between her arms, black hair cascading around her knees. Finally she raised her head, the yellowish tint in her hazel eyes more prominent in room's light. "So…let me get this straight. You and another group of robots have been at war and still are at war, even though that cube thingy you guys were fighting over got destroyed in Mission City."

"Yes." He crossed his massive arms over his cockpit.

"And the guy who interrogated me, Starscream right? He's now in charge because a kid younger than me destroyed your old leader using that cube, which is how it got destroyed."

"Correct," Thundercracker growled. This was beginning to get annoying. Did all squishy's brains operate at 20 capacity or just this one?

She grew silent once again, gnawing on the facts placed before her. If Thundercracker's theory was right, it would seem she was going to play a role in their war whether she liked it or not, and although he never directly said it, Dezba concurred that most people would view her as being on the wrong side. On the other hand, it had been a Decepticon that saved her and she knew full well that Thundercracker could have just as easily killed her along with the other two guys, whether she spoke Cybertronian or not. Also, her treatment by the Decepticons, although not five-star class, had not been unharsh either. Finally, she could not ignore the one major issue that was at hand: her telepathic bond with Thundercracker. Even if she went to the Autobots for their protection (as if the Decepticons would let her!), he would know exactly what she was doing, feeling, saying…in short everything. To her reasoning, going to the Autobots would probably put her and others in more danger than they already were. Well, staying with the Decepticons was better than being dead, she guessed. Which reminded her; according to her hometown news media, she was already dead. What's up with that? Breaking her silence, she voiced her concern to the dark blue jet, giving him an abridged version of Starscream's announcement and her subsequent reaction.

He listened patiently. Naturally, he had heard every thought that had run through her mind. As a result, he had felt it best to not interfere with her reasoning; let her come to her own conclusions. When she had, he surprised himself by feeling somewhat relieved. Her reasoning (albeit slow) was logical; it was something he had a hard time seeing in humans. Her questioning voice dug him out of his thoughts. "It's a cover up," he stated answering her question, "and that's about all I've been able to figure out." He uncrossed his arms and leaned forward once again.

"Do you think they'll come after me again?" A worried look entered her eyes and she nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Thundercracker allowed himself a small laugh. "Hah, they've already tried, the fraggers! But Barricade took care of that little problem for us." Sure enough as soon as the scout had returned, he had briefed everyone of his mission, not leaving out a single, gory detail. She saw a devilish gleam light his optics; it was all she needed to see to hypothesize what had resulted.

"Don't bother telling me; I don't wanna know," she said, raising her hands up to emphasize her point.

His deep, rumbling chuckle filled the room. "I guess some things are better left unsaid."

"In this case, yes." The shared a laugh together. For the first time since their fated meeting both mech and human felt relatively comfortable with each other. It was certainly a strange feeling and one neither had expected.

Once their laughter subsided, Thundercracker leveled her with another intense stare. "I believe it is time to return you to your cell; the dawn is almost here and we're both in need of some recharge."

"Sounds good to me." She stifled a yawn and wearily climbed up into his hand.

"I also wouldn't…"

"…mention this to Starscream?" she finished for him. She raised her brow with curiosity. "If he's your leader, then why all this secrecy?"

The question caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered. "Just let me deal with that; I have my reasons," he answered. Then he quickly added, "and _don't_ try to prowl around in my mind to find out; I'll let you know when I feel like it."

Dezba opened her mouth to protest, but thought better of it. At this point in time, sleep definitely seemed more important than playing with fire.

By the time they had made it back to the cell block (in which they thankfully went undetected) Dezba had fallen fast asleep in his palm. Gently, he deposited her sleeping form on the floor.

They had covered a lot of ground over the course of the night's conversion; however, he would need to dig around for a few more puzzle pieces. For instance what was the connection between her dream, her name, and the power they now shared? Another question was if her mother was murdered, then what happened to the stepfather? Was he still alive; or was he dead as well? Does he even have a connection to all this, or was he a victim of circumstance? Well, he wasn't answering any of these questions standing around here. He cast a final glance at her cell. As much as he hated to admit it, he was stuck with this human and all the complex problems that came with her; but if he had to be honest with himself she really wasn't half bad, for a human.

* * *

A lone human figure walked down a brightly lit corridor. On either side he was flanked by Autobots Prowl and Ironhide. None of the three said a word to each other; in fact, you could have probably cut the hostility with a knife, it hung so thick in the air. But the man was determined he was going to do the right thing, even if it meant a third face off with the Topkick's huge cannons.

Finally they reached their destination: a broad, double sliding metal door. Prowl spoke into the comm link, announcing their presence.

"Optimus, your visitor has arrived."

"Please, show him in," came the smooth, baritone voice of the Autobot Commander. Abruptly, the two massive doors slid open, revealing the Autobot Command Center. Once inside, Optimus dismissed his two officers and was left alone with the human visitor.

If Optimus Prime was surprised to see his visitor, he showed no sign. "So Agent Simmons, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

* * *

**A/N: Just to clear up any confusion about the telepathic link TC and Dezba share: They can feel each other's emotions and read each other's thoughts, but only when neither are speaking. They cannot read each other's thoughts when holding a verbal conversation.**


	10. Incoming Transmissions

**A/N: Sorry for the long delay. I've been swamped with college homework, studying for my ASVAB and AFOQT, as well as trying to pay the bills. Sometimes I feel like a hamster in an exercise wheel—running my butt off but not getting anywhere. Anyways, enough babble. This chapter is another filler; however it's a setup for things to come. So enjoy and please R/R.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Ten: Incoming Transmissions**

Agent Reginald Simmons had never been accused of being a "people person." Therefore, he didn't indulge Optimus Prime in small talk.

"Look Prime, I'm not even supposed to be here, so I'm going to cut to the chase." Simmons' caustic attitude was even more biting than usual. His face was drawn from worry and dark circles encompassed his eyes; a suit that was once wrinkle-free looked as if it hadn't seen the dry cleaners in weeks. In short, Agent Simmons looked like he had gone through Hell and back again.

Optimus nodded his head in understanding; he waited patiently for Simmons to continue.

"Look. I know you believe that Sector Seven was disbanded by the US government after Mission City. It's bullshit," Simmons paused, catching his breath. "The organization split; half decided to throw in the towel and the other half joined up with some kind of freak organization hell-bent on destroying you guys." A questioning look was beginning to cloud the Autobot leader's optics, so Simmons quickly continued.

"Prime, I'm not proud of what I did, staying with 'em I mean. Hell, if I'd had known things were going to get this bad I'd have left the alien hunting business to the guys at NASA."

"Do not concern yourself with the past, Simmons; what's done is done," Optimus spoke softly. This was a very different man than the one he had met that night when Sam Witwicky and Michaela Banes were arrested. "You said that Sector Seven divided, and now those who wished to continue 'observing' us now seek to destroy us?"

Simmons allowed himself a dry chuckle. "You put it quite nicely, Optimus, but yes, that's it in a nutshell, and I _was _one of them. I have no desire to add murderer to my repertoire. Killing alien machines bent on destroying my planet is one thing; killing innocent human civilians that may or may not have a connection to you aliens is another. And that's what Sector Seven is doing now. Look," the man spread his hands apart for emphasis, "almost three days ago a family of three went missing—the Richards family."

"I believe I heard something pertaining to the Richards family. Are you referring to the vehicle accident of Anaba Richards and her daughter's subsequent self-termination?"

"That was no accident and there was no suicide, Prime. It was all a cover-up. A man by the name of Darren Miller issued a command for the arrest of Anaba Richards and her daughter Dezba Collins. So far as I know he's the right hand man of S7, not to mention my commander. He wanted the girl dead to begin with, so he hired two scumbags to take her into the Mohave and dump the body. The less witnesses he had to deal with the better, you know, that sort thing. Well, as it so happened, one of those Decepticons saw them, killed the two hitmen, and kidnapped her. Rumor has it she has some sort of mind power. Miller wasn't aware that she had it at the time, but now that he does…" Simmons trailed off.

"He'll do anything he can to get her back," Optimus finished for him.

"Exactly."

"What became of the mother and father?" Prime questioned.

"Miller had Mrs. Richards killed when he couldn't get any relevant information out of her. She was rumored to have the power as well. But as soon as Miller found out Dezba was still alive…I don't need to tell you the rest. As for Mr. Richards, he's the asshole who started this ball rolling. He turned his wife in to Miller when she told him she'd been having strange dreams of you guys, I mean, not any of you in particular, just you aliens as a whole. Anyways, Richards turned her in for an exchange—a promotion." At this Simmons paused and mumbled under his breath, "Stupid son of a bitch."

"So, as I understand it, Richards is not her biological father," Optimus clarified.

"Yeah. Her real father was accidentally killed in a training operation, friendly fire."

"I see." Optimus mulled over the information trying to make sense of it all. Obviously, Agent Simmons was at a great risk coming to him with this information. Relations with Sector Seven had been tenuous at best, before their supposed dispersion. Now, it seemed Sector Seven had become a hostile underground network bent on _every _Transformers' destruction and they didn't care who or what got in their way. To compound matters further, an innocent human girl had almost been murdered and was now being held hostage by Decepticons. Her mother was murdered and her stepfather had betrayed her for his own selfish desires. She was also rumored to have a special power that both the Decepticons and Sector Seven would do anything to possess. Yes, things had certainly gotten very complicated in a very short amount of time. "Agent Simmons," Optimus began, his deep blue penetrating gaze causing Simmons to shift uncomfortably, "I know you are in a precarious position coming to me with this information. Therefore, I want to extend to you an invitation of our protection until we can get to the bottom of this."

Simmons cast his gaze downwards, whether from embarrassment or shame Prime couldn't determine. Finally, he looked Optimus in the optic and gave his reply. "Well uh, I uh, appreciate the offer Optimus, but I don't think it'll be necessary. They don't know I'm gone _yet _and if anything does happen to me, well, at least I tried to make things right. But uh, if anything else happens I'll get in touch." With that Simmons turned sharply on his heel and strode from the Command Center, his back rigid and stride quick and choppy.

It wasn't lost on Optimus that Reginald Simmons had avoided his offer. Just the same, he would be sure to keep tabs on Simmons. For now, he needed to talk with the others about the situation at hand and try to work out a plan of action. It was a race against time, and the clock was ticking.

* * *

It had been another long, tedious day for the new leader of the Decepticons. As a result, Starscream was still deep in recharge when his internal com began to beep obnoxiously. With a feral growl the brown jet on-lined his optics and waited for his main systems to boot up (of course, this all took just a fraction of a second). "This had better be good, or so help me Primus I will melt your carcass down to slag and use the remains for a door jamb!"

"Take it easy, Starscream. Don't shoot the messenger," Barricade's gruff voice came over the com, "You have an incoming transmission. And just _try_to make me into a door jamb, you slagger." The connection broke abruptly, leaving Starscream cursing to himself.

"That insubordinate scrapheap! It would almost be worth the effort to try!" Slowly, Starscream rose to his feet and stretched his arms and wings, relishing the tingling feeling of hydraulics and servos gradually stretching out, much like human muscles that have been held in the same spot for too long and are finally being stretched.

Barricade was waiting by the control console in the Communications Room, a faint but ever present smugness in his ruby optics. Ignoring the scout, the brown jet depressed a button and opened the communications channel.

"This is Lord Starscream."

"Lord Starscream, Soundwave reporting," a very metallic and monotonous voice droned over the airwaves.

"Soundwave, good of you to report. What is your status?" Starscream asked.

"Estimated time of arrival: 2.3 solar cycles," Soundwave replied. The connection buzzed with static like a radio having trouble tuning a station.

"Excellent! Are there any others with you?" A devilish gleam lit Starscream's optics. Finally, the Decepticons had an opportunity to bolster their numbers and mount a come-back against the Autobots. Then another thought crossed his processor; Soundwave might be able to determine the origin of human's unique capability. He rubbed his hands with glee.

"Affirmative. Runabout and Runamuck also en-route."

"Yes, Yes! Very good Soundwave. Contact me as soon as you make landfall. I will send you coordinates for a rendezvous."

"Affirmative." With a last gust of static the connection broke and silence filled the Communications Room. Starscream glanced over at Barricade. "It appears you will have soldiers to command once again, Barricade," Starscream grinned mischievously.

"Huh," the interceptor grunted. "Those two will be about as helpful as a glitch mouse in a mother board." He crossed his massive arms across his chest, optics glowering. Barricade was less than happy to hear about the new arrivals. Two of the three were a little better than mobile battering rams, while Soundwave just plain freaked him out. You never could tell what that telepath was thinking. He watched as Starscream strode from the room, probably to return to recharge knowing that lazy fragger. A puff of hot air escaped his vents in the robotic equivalent of a sigh. Well, back to work.

Starscream had indeed left for his quarters, but not to return to recharge. He needed to plan. Since Barricade's return from Mission City, he now knew that the humans were on to them and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out they wanted the girl. After all, they had a prime opportunity to _try _and take his scout down, yet they opted to only follow him. The stupid fleshbags. Once Soundwave arrived he had high hopes that the telepath would be able to shed some light on their "guest's" ability. Runabout and Runamuck would serve greatly as Autobot cannon fodder and distractions. Things had certainly taken a turn for the best, and if the human proved an asset it would make his conquest of Cybertron and this mudball that much easier. If she proved a fluke, well…what was one more squishy's death?


	11. Pain Always Comes Two Fold

**A/N: I hope you'll enjoy this chapter; it was a lot of fun to write. I also tried to give more insight into Dezba's and Thundercracker's characters. Hope you enjoy. :)**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Eleven: Pain Always Comes Two-Fold**

For almost two days, Dezba had stayed in her little cell with little to no contact from any of the Decepticons. Fortunately for her, at the least the Cons had the sense to keep her in a cell with a built-in latrine, but even Thundercracker had no contact with her, both physically and mentally. The only time she saw anyone was when Barricade entered to give her her daily ration. He never spoke to her and she returned the favor.

Something was up; she had that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, she could hear shouting and loud bangs that more often than not were felt as well as heard. She didn't like not knowing what was going on around her and Thundercracker's prolonged silence only made her feel all the more anxious.

She hated to admit it but lately she had come to regard the big blue jet as something like a friend. Dezba had never really had a true friend. All through school—elementary, middle, and even high school, her peers had teased and picked on her. Dezba had never had the urge to go shopping for hours on end or ogle hot guys while walking the school hallways. All things that girls normally did she found hollow and superficial. Dezba had always preferred reading a good book to going shopping or learning the valuable properties of wild herbs and plants with her mother versus chatting on the phone about nonsense. She valued her heritage and her mother's teachings, perhaps more than personal friendships; not too many young people could understand that. A small chuckle slipped through her lips. It was on more than one occasion her mother had to come to school to pick her daughter up after detention for fighting. Naturally, fighting didn't improve Dezba's image in her peer's eyes. _Well at least I know how to take care of myself should the need ever arrive._

Her thoughts slipped to her mother. Anaba had never chastised her daughter for fighting, just warned her to make sure that she never started the conflicts. Her mother. _Oh how I miss her, and father too._ Tears wet the corners of her eyes. She was alone now; she had to take care of herself. Well, not tee totally alone—there was Thundercracker. The strange alien being who had taken her from death's cruel grasp, the being with whom she now had an unprecedented link. Since her time with the Cons the blue Eagle had at least spoken with her, had helped her sort through the anomalies of her mind, and had become quite literally the voice of reason in her head. But his absence was becoming increasingly worrisome. _Is he setting me up? _That one thought had continuously plagued her mind over the past 48 hours. She shook her head irritably. _No. It couldn't be true. Could it? _Then again the blue jet was one of them. She slumped against the cold, concrete wall. Damn, why did life have to be so complicated? Just then, the door to the prison quarters swung open revealing a mech she had never seen before.

* * *

Soundwave. The very name of the Decepticon Communications Officer sent shivers through Autobots and Decepticons alike. Cold, calculating, driven by sheer logic the mech was all but sparkless. Many a mech and femme had off-lined under the intense mental probing powers that he possessed.

Between Shockwave and himself they had easily secured the remnants of Cybertron and scattered the remaining Autobot forces across the galaxy. With the Autobots ousted, Soundwave had reported to Earth leaving a small group of Decepticons to guard Cybertron. Upon his arrival to Earth (along with Runabout and Runamuck) they each had scanned an Earth alt mode—Soundwave, an F-117 Nighthawk, Runabout and Runamuck, Dodge Vipers, white and black respectively. After finding suitable disguises the trio rendezvoused with Starscream, Thundercracker and Skywarp and headed back to Decepticon headquarters.

Back at base, Soundwave was briefed on the events of Mission City and those thereafter. And as cold and logical as he was, the Communications Officer took joy in doing one thing—interrogations.

"Rumble: Eject. Bring human hostage."

Dezba had quickly risen to her feet upon the entrance of the visitor. She stood with her back to the wall, eyes bright with apprehension. When the mech's cockpit began to open, she began to tremble. Suddenly, a smaller robot hopped out of the larger's chest compartment. He was a little taller than her, but no less intimidating. His deep purple armor flashed in the dim light as the little 'bot opened the door to her cell. He was a somewhat blocky robot, with thick arms and legs. He reminded Dezba of what a bouncer should look like.

"No problem, Soundwave," he spoke in English. With a resounding clang the door banged open.

_Oh shit, oh shit, OH SHIT! _

As the intruder entered her cell Dezba prepared herself for the fight. He lunged, intent on grabbing the scrawny human. She dived under his arms and made a break for the opposite side of the cell. Rumble recovered quickly and pivoted 180 degrees; he viciously kicked the retreating girl in the back and sent her sprawling to the floor. Dezba hit the concrete with a sickening thud, her breath rushed from her lungs with a whoosh, and a fiery pain ripped through her lower back. Vice-like hands gripped her shoulders and hauled her roughly to her feet.

Dezba struggled to regain her footing while biting back the screams of pain resonating from her shoulders and back. The purple mini-bot followed Soundwave out of the holding cells and into the corridor. Her mind was racing at 100 mph. _What in the hell is happening? Who are these jerks…Where is Thundercracker?_

After navigating several hallways they soon came to an open doorway. The robot named Soundwave stepped inside and to the left revealing a room bare of any furniture with the exception of a small table in the center. Rumble shoved the girl inside then stepped back to the wall, beside Soundwave. Said mech turned and faced her; it was the first time she was able to get a good look of the newcomer.

He was tall, probably as tall if not taller than Starscream. She recognized the sharp angular features of the Nighthawk aircraft that composed his black armor. Unlike the other Cons, this one had a shiny, reflective red visor that hid his optics from view. An air of superiority surrounded him and Dezba shivered involuntary. Something told her this meeting wasn't going to go as well as the one she had with Thundercracker.

"Human, get on the table," a resonant monotone echoed throughout the room.

"Screw you," Dezba spat.

The red visor glinted menacingly. With a whir of gears, the Decepticon's arm transformed into a very large and intimidating gun. "I will not repeat request again."

Dezba stared into the open maw of the weapon, quickly weighing her options—resist, die, comply. She chose the latter. With a grunt she hopped onto the table then turned and faced this new threat. She tried to ignore the steady throb in her lower back.

Once the human complied, Soundwave replaced his weapon with his hand and walked over to the girl. Dezba cringed slightly as his shadow covered the table. She was expecting more questions and more threats, but they never came. _Are we just gonna stand here and have a Mexican stand-off or what?_

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than a searing pain ripped from the front of head, between her eyes to the base of her neck. Dezba screamed in agony as the pain increased. She lay back on the table curling into the fetal position, hands holding her head. It felt as if all the blood in her body had suddenly flooded her brain and was threatening to break through her eardrums. It was pure, unbridled agony. Then she felt a presence. It was not the calm, assertive presence that she had hoped to feel over the past two days. No, this presence felt like ice water in the dead of a Minnesota winter. It rushed through her mind with a force and fury she had never felt before and never wanted to feel again. And the pain only intensified with each passing second.

Another scream filled the room and Dezba felt herself break into a cold sweat. The presence continued to swirl about within her head--searching, plundering, and raping her mind. Memories flashed by like scenery from a bullet train and with every flash a torrent of agony. She rolled and thrashed on the table, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her once glossy black hair spiderwebbed across her face in dull, wet tendrils. She was barely aware that Rumble had come over and had grasped her shoulders in an attempt to quell her struggles.

Soundwave continued to dig deeper and deeper into the human's mind. Each memory he came to he scanned quickly then discarded it as if it were scrap paper, moving from one to another. His victim's screams of pain was like music to his audios. No amount of physical pain could compare to mental anguish.

Abruptly the content of the human's mind changed. He paused in his ravaging to behold the sight before him. A wall had appeared; it crackled and glimmered in a bluish-white light. Ancient Cybertronian glyphs decorated its surface, glyphs Soundwave had not seen since the AllSpark was cast from Cybertron. It stretched indefinitely within the expanse of the human's mind; there was no end or beginning in sight. What was this? Well, whatever it was only confirmed Soundwave's suspicions about the girl. With a rush of power he charged the wall intent on breaking through. Like a whiplash the bluish-white light snapped at his presence, temporarily shocking the telepath all the way to his processor. It was a powerful defensive move and one not made by the girl alone. Suddenly a human appeared before him. He was tall and lean with long, flowing black hair, but the most striking feature about the fleshling were the eyes. They were a brilliant blue-white; a violent contrast to the copper-colored skin. He raised his hands then pointed at Soundwave and said:

"**You are not the chosen one."**

Soundwave staggered back away from the table, his mental probing immediately cut-short. He held his head in one hand, trying to ease the pounding in his processor. He looked over at the human, still being held down by Rumble. She moaned softly, but her wild thrashing was beginning to subside. Never in all the millions of years he "interrogated" prisoners had one succeeded in casting him out of their mind. The power within her mind was immense. Somehow, someway this girl was connected to the AllSpark or the remnants thereof. The glyphs, the wall, the mysterious powers…it was a logical hypothesis. He gave Rumble a nod, opened the door and left the room. With no amount of tenderness, the purple mini-bot scooped the human off the table and headed back to the holding cells. He was just happy she had quit screaming.

* * *

A beautiful azure sky caressed the wingtips of two jets as they sliced through the wind. Thundercracker was happy to just get out of the base and embrace the temporary distraction that the open air offered. When Starscream had announced that Soundwave would arrive in two Earth days, Thundercracker knew it spelled trouble for him and Dezba both. It would only be a matter of time before the telepath would discover their mental connection. So to be on the safe side, Thundercracker had blocked any and all contact with the human. He had to sort this problem out for both their sakes. Preparing for the new arrivals had helped to keep his processor off her mental inquiries, but a small pang of guilt hit him in the spark every time.

The blue Seeker had come to respect the human over the time of her stay. Her spirit, her attitude--it reminded him so much of…

"Hey, TC! Isn't this great!?"

Skywarp's inquiry jerked Thundercracker from his reverie. "Uh, yeah it sure is, Warp," he replied distractedly. Leave it to Skywarp. The black and purple jet could always be counted on to be a distraction.

"TC, what's bothering you? Ever since you brought that human back, you've been even more moody than normal. What's the deal?" The black Eagle gently bumped Thundercracker's wingtip with his own, emphasizing the question.

Thundercracker hesitated. Should he tell Skywarp? He should have known that his wingmate would get suspicious sooner or later. You didn't spend millions of years watching your wingmate's tailfins just to be acquaintances. He and Skywarp had fought many a battle together and could predict each other's movements down to the astrosecond. But on the other hand, Skywarp wasn't necessarily known for his generosity towards humans. He released a slow, drawn-out sigh and rumbled his thrusters.

"It's complicated, Warp," he finally replied.

"Come on, TC. What's up your thrusters?" Skywarp paused letting the question hang in the wind. "You know, no one else has taken notice, but I have. There's something going on with you and that human and you know that if I see it, it'll only be a matter of time before the Screaming One sees it too. Don't you think I have a right to know, at least before he does?"

It was moments like these that Thundercracker really appreciated his wingmate. Sure, Skywarp could be the biggest pain in the afterburners Primus ever created, but that just gave a mech more incentive to not be at the butt-end of the black Seeker's pranks. It had always been Skywarp who had kept him grounded in the Decepticon cause and it had always been Skywarp who had listened to his doubts and concerns. Now whether the black jet would be able to grasp the concept of his and Dezba's relationship would remain to be seen. So he gave in.

"All right, Warp. I'll tell you," Thundercracker conceded. "Me and the human have…" The blue F-15 stopped speaking abruptly. Without warning it felt as if every circuit link and wire in his processing core was on fire. He cried out in agony as the pain ripped from memory bank to memory bank. _What…in the…Pit? _He struggled to regain his flight path but the pain was overwhelming. The cobalt-colored jet then went into a nosedive, barreling wing-over-wing towards the ground.

"TC!" With his afterburners screaming, Skywarp dove after his wingmate, a black blur against a pristine blue sky.

Thundercracker was vaguely aware of the ground looming closer, but the torture running rampant in his processor made calculating and thinking difficult. Struggling against his mind and gravity, the blue jet somehow managed to pull his nose out of the dive. At the last moment he transformed and slammed into the earth, belly down. He slid through the dirt, wings clipping trees like a giant electric razor, rocks and other debris raining down in the Seeker's wake. When Thundercracker finally came to a stop, a ditch 250 feet long and 8 feet deep led to his motionless form.

Skywarp transformed and landed beside his wingmate, instantly running scans to see what was damaged. A low moan escaped from the fallen Seeker. _Well, at least he's still alive, _Skywarp thought. Besides a few major dents and a couple of split wires TC seemed to be only stunned from the impact. Garbled words drifted through the smoke and dust to Skywarp's audios. He quickly knelt down beside TC's head, which was half buried in the earth.

"What was that TC? Come on. Say it again," he pleaded. For the first time in orns, Skywarp was worried. Thundercracker had never lost control mid-flight. It was unheard of. He turned up the gain on his audios hoping that Thundercracker would repeat himself; when the blue jet did speak Skywarp had to repeat the phrase twice just to make sure he heard correctly.

"Dezba…Must get…to Deeezzzba."


	12. Pieces

**A/N: Wow! I didn't think I'd ever get this chapter up! I never realized just how hard it was to write Skywarp. I tried my best to keep him character, but on the other hand that's what's so wonderful about fanfiction—you can write anyone however you want. Got some twists planned for the near future and we'll be hearing from our "friends" at Sector Seven next chapter. Special thanks to Starfire201 and whitedino for hanging with me through all these chapters. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own TFs; Hasbro does.**

**Chapter Twelve: Pieces**

With a groan Thundercracker struggled to his hands and knees. Caked dirt and grime fell from his armor leaving a dusky residue over the cobalt color. A rip in his armor over the left intake and a nasty gash on his left arm streamed a river of purplish-orange sparks; both wings had numerous dents, chips and scratches. Fortunately neither wing was injured to the point of inhibiting flight. Never had Thundercracker been happier for Cybertronian alloy.

"TC? Are you all right?" Skywarp grabbed his wingmate by the arm and helped him to his feet. He swayed a little as his stabilizing servos struggled to recalibrate.

The massive blue jet shook his head, trying to clear the haze clouding his processor. When his senses finally came to him, he looked Skywarp in the optics and firmly grasped the black jet's shoulders.

"Something'szz happened to her," he choked out, vocalizer buzzing slightly.

Skywarp took a step back and cocked a red optic in confusion. "You mean the human?" he asked, sounding slightly disgusted.

"YESS'ZZ! THE HUMAN!" he snarled. Rage and worry flashed in Thundercracker's optics. He slashed the open air with his clawed hand, a shower of sparks following in its wake. "I need to get to her, NOW!"

"Hey, take it easy, TC," Skywarp conceded, raising his hands up. "Just tell me what in the Pit is going on."

The smoldering fury in the blue Seeker's optics dimmed marginally as his rational thought processes began to take over. It would do the human no good to fly off the handle and quite possibly, under the circumstances, allow his rage to filter through their mind link—more than likely it would do more harm than good. He drew in a deep, raspy drought of air through his intakes and then slowly released it in an effort to buy time and collect his thoughts. "The human and I share a mind link," he said simply, after a moment's pause.

"Huh? Can you put that in idiot-speech, please?" Pure puzzlement was written across Skywarp's face as he tried to comprehend what his friend just told him.

Thundercracker growled in frustration as he struggled to put the concept of telepathy into simpler terms. "Let me put it to you thiszz way. You know that Soundwave can read the mindszz of other mechs, right?"

"Yeah."

"And he can talk with his miniature scrapheaps without actually saying anything out loud, right?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Well, the human and I can kind of do the same thing, only juszzt between the two of uszz. And don't ask me how or why 'causzze I barely know myself," Thundercracker finished irritably. "It just happened."

For a long time, the black and purple Seeker just stared with his mouth agape and one optic ridge cocked upwards in pure disbelief. When Skywarp did speak his voice was a mixture of astonishment, anger, revulsion and wonder.

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"I wish I was, Warp, I wish I was," Thundercracker held the bridge of his nose in aggravation, "and you're the only other mech besides uszz who knows. Breathe a word of thiszz to _anyone_, and I will personally rip your wings off and shove them down your intakes 'til they come out your afterburners!"

"Hey I didn't mean offense, bud. You know I would never rat you out, as the humans say. We've been through too much together. Cut me some slack, will ya?" Skywarp said, a trace of hurt in his tone.

"I'm sorry, Warp. I've been under a lot of pressure lately trying to keep thiszz from Screamer and now that Soundwave'szz here…" he trailed off, voice filled with uncertainty.

"I catch your drift." Skywarp rubbed the back of his helm in nervous agitation. "Well, if something has happened to her, and if your crash is anything to go by, you're both pretty much slagged."

"Thank you for your kind wordszz of support," Thundercracker sneered.

"Well, we ain't helping her much by standing around here running our mouth components, are we? First things first, my human-loving friend," the black jet said with a mischievous glint in his red optics and promptly received a death glare in return, "I'm going to fix that fraggin' vocalizer of yours, patch ya up a little and then while we're headin' back to base and we'll draw up a plan of action."

"Who died and put you charge?" his wingmate replied sourly.

"Whose the one that took out half a national forest?"

Skywarp ducked just in time to avoid a large tree trunk on a collision course with his helm.

* * *

"Ohhhh," Dezba groaned. She lay flat on her stomach back in the familiar confines of her holding cell. Her head felt as if it were attached to the business end of a wrecking ball in full swing demolition; she felt dizzy, nauseous, and slightly feverish. Blood throbbed with a painful cadence against her eardrums. She struggled to a sitting position, the disgusting feeling of dried sweat tingled every limb; her fatigues were still slightly damp from the ordeal. She sat quietly willing the after-effects of the torture to subside.

When her headache had subsided slightly, she crawled to the farthest corner of the room and curled into a small ball. The damage Soundwave had done to her mentality was immense. She could not concentrate on any particular thought or image; every time she tried a wave of nausea assailed her, followed by a sharp, dagger-like pain in the back of her head. Dezba closed her eyes, tears slipping out of the corners. Was nothing sacred anymore? The comfort of her mind, her innermost thoughts and memories protected from mortal men, violated by a metal monster. She felt exposed, vulnerable. At this point, Dezba's greatest desire was to just slip away into darkness and never wake. Her eyelids drooped and eventually closed, enveloping her in the welcomed blackness. She had no idea how long she drifted in the inky blackness known as unconsciousness. It was bliss, pure peaceful bliss to not think on any particular thought. She could have remained in that state forever; but a loud and rude voice echoed through the stillness.

"_WAKE UP!"_

With a start the black-haired girl jerked awake. "Who said that?" She mumbled out loud.

"_Who do you think it is!? It's me, Thundercracker," _came the angry retort.

"Thundercracker?"

"_Yes, don't you remember me?" _His response sounded angry and worried at the same time.

For a very long moment silence reigned between the two parties. With each passing second, Thundercracker was growing more and more vexed. Did she remember him? Had Soundwave gotten his oily servos on her? It would definitely explain her memory lapse; he had heard of similar occurrences with mechs who had run-ins with the Communications Officer; it was definitely logical to conclude that the same thing could happen to a human if not with worse consequences.

A raging storm battered Dezba's broken mind. She wanted to slip back into her blissful darkness and yet the voice speaking to her was _so _familiar; her curiosity had been piqued. _Where…have I heard it…before? _She struggled to piece together the remnants of her shattered memories. It hurt. Oh how it hurt to dig around, to try and find something that you've lost, to hear it in your mind, only to have all traces of familiarity pass through your fingers as wisps of smoke. She battled the darkness for what seemed like an eternity, searching for a trace of a memory that would put a face to the voice.

Suddenly a foreign presence pushed into her mind. She gasped in pain and fright, physically recoiling from it as if it were a viper ready to strike. Was that monster back to finish her off? But wait. This presence radiated warmth and solidarity; it wasn't like the cold, icy tendrils that had ravaged her mind earlier. It was like a bright, reddish flame hovering in midair, driving out the darkness as well as drawing to itself the shattered pieces of her memory. Within her mind she reached for the strange presence. Dezba could feel the pieces being drawn back together; the light was acting as magnet. A strong desire to feel its warmth and radiance overtook her. As the two entities touched, a shower of bright sparks erupted within her head.

All of a sudden, the young girl found herself sitting next to broad river. It flowed lazily, hardly a ripple breaking the blue-green surface. Then she heard a voice, a soft feminine voice…her mother's voice. Dezba whirled around and saw an image of her mother. She sat before her daughter, talking as if there wasn't a problem in the world. Then it hit Dezba like a wave from an open floodgate. All of her memories, past and present hit her in a wave of recollection. She remembered.

"_Thundercracker?"_

"_I'm here."_

"_I remember now."_

"_I had hoped that little image_ _would jump-start your memory circuits. Looks like it worked," _he drawled.

"_Thank you," _she paused briefly. _"Where are you?"_

"_I am returning from patrol as we speak. Where are you? What happened?"_

"_I'm back in the cell. As for what happened I'm not sure. The last thing I clearly remember was this big, new guy coming to my cell. A little dude about my size popped out his chest and dragged me to this room. They put me on the table and the next thing I know my head felt like it was being run over by a steamroller. Where were you? Why didn't you help me?"_

There was a brief silence followed by something like a sigh. _"I didn't want to put you, or myself for that matter, in any more danger than we already were, but I see that by standing down and doing nothing I only made things worse for both of us. It was not the most intelligent decision I have made." _

A soft growl flowed through their connection. She could feel the remorse radiating through their bond; he truly regretted what had happened to her. She could feel something else as well. She was physically uncomfortable, her left arm tingled as if the blood flow had been cut off and then restored. How odd. She did not recall laying on it; then again, she hadn't been able to recall much of anything until recently.

"_Don't worry about it, Thundercracker. Let's just concentrate on what we're going to do now."_

"_I will come for you as soon as we reach base; there are things that need…discussed."_

"_We?"_

"_Skywarp is with me," _he added.

"_Oh. Well…umm…what should I do if that mind-raping, walking trashcan returns?"_

"_Contact me immediately. Chances are Soundwave will already know of our connection, but I will try to help you block his advances. Primus knows I don't need a repeat of this particular solar cycle."_

"_What do you mean by that?" _she asked, fear and curiosity mingling in her voice.

"_I'll explain when we get there," _he growled. "_Until then, rest."_

For once, Dezba had no problem with that order. With Thundercracker's help her memories were restored and the migraine headache had decreased substantially. However, her head still throbbed dully with each heartbeat. As she felt his presence leave her mind, Dezba settled back into a small ball. Yes, rest did sound like a pretty good idea.

* * *

"Soundwave, report."

"Human female in possession of residual AllSpark energy," came the monotone reply.

At this news Starscream's optics widened with surprise and then began to glow with an intense crimson light. "Are you certain about this?"

"Affirmative."

This was news indeed. The AllSpark had been destroyed in the battle at Mission City and the only other source of AllSpark energy (the shard) was in Autobot possession. Where did _this_ energy come from?

"Any ideas on how this human came to have AllSpark energy?" Starscream voiced his question.

"Energy Source: Undetermined. Further analysis required," said Soundwave. His red visor glowed ominously.

"Are you saying you need to examine the girl again? What kept you from getting answers the first time?" Starscream demanded, crossing his massive arms over his cockpit in agitation.

"Affirmative. Physical endangerment of prisoner was imminent. Conditions of termination questionable."

Starscream growled softly to himself. Primus damn the weakness of these flesh creatures! He uncrossed his arms, turned and proceeded to walk across the room, his back to his Communications Officer. After several long moments, he turned and faced Soundwave again. "She is of no use to me terminated, at least not until we discover the true nature behind her mentality."

Once again Sounwave's visor lit with an unholy light. "What is recommended course of action?"

The cold, calculated question hung in the air like breath on a cold morning. Starscream held his chin between two talon-tipped fingers, contemplating the question. "Proceed with your interrogations, Soundwave. Do as many as necessary until you find the source or a clue to the source. Just as long as she doesn't die, I don't care what you do or how you do it. She may hold the answer to saving Cybertron." He cast a fierce glance at the Nighthawk. "You are dismissed."

With a curt nod, the black jet turned and left the room. His processor hummed with all the possibilities to garner more information from the human female, if not to satisfy Starscream's curiosity, it was to satisfy his own. The girl's mental barrier was very intriguing. How did it get there? Where did it come from? Who was the entity that had cast him out and would he be able to overpower him? He had deliberately neglected to mention to his Commanding Officer that he had been cast out of the girl's mind. He would need to do some research on this girl and find out as much as possible about her, past and present. Also there was one other thing Soundwave wanted to investigate. Why was the girl interested in Thundercracker's whereabouts prior to the interrogation?


	13. Mind Fight

**A/N: Yaayy! I updated finally! Sorry for the long delay. School, finals, job, training, writer's block, you know, the usual excuses…Anyways, here is Chapter 13 with some good ol' fashioned throwdowns. And as a side note, there is a clue as to just who is in control of S7. Think you know? Throw me a PM! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!**

**Chapter Thirteen: Mind Fight**

A black Monte Carlo made its way down a lonely deserted highway, the moon, stars and desert creatures its only company.

Agent Simmon's mind was a whirlpool of mixed emotions and sentimentalities. On one hand he wanted to serve his country, protect her people, and guard her against "outside" invasions. On the other hand his once proud organization was going about it all the wrong way. He had disagreed vehemently when Secretary of Defense Keller and the President issued the disbandment of Sector Seven. It was one of the deciding factors as to why he stayed with Sector Seven when they went underground. But after doing a few missions and listening to the rumors floating around in the rumor mill, his resolution in their cause had begun to dissolve. Things were different under this new command. No longer was their focus on research for the betterment of civilization, but rather on ways to inflict damage on the aliens, whether they were good or evil. Optimus Prime and his brave Autobots had proven to be invaluable allies and open windows of opportunity for alien diplomacy—why classify them as enemies? The excuse that no aliens with that much firepower could be completely trusted was given and for the most part everyone accepted it, even him.

He wasn't present at the custody of the Richards family, but had heard every detail right down to the girl's escape. So what if the family may have ties to a National Security issue? Arrest the suspecting parties, ask a few questions, watch 'em for a while, let 'em go—that's how it was suppose to work, right? Wrong, it didn't work that way anymore. Simmons may not have been on the arresting mission, but he was hand-picked by Miller himself to help cover-up Anaba Richards murder/accident. Soon after the cover-up went down, he discovered that Mitch Richards was the one who had put the family in the crosshairs and in Simmons' book, ultimately committed the murder. It had been the final straw for Simmons. As soon as his schedule allowed, he had slipped off base and made a beeline for the Autobots. He would no longer allow himself to be used as a tool for the destruction of innocent human civilians; he would put a stop to this madness before more innocents were killed. It hadn't been an easy decision for him to make, but it was one he did not regret.

So consumed was he in his thoughts, that Simmons never noticed the black military-style Hummer running up onto his bumper at an alarming rate.

KA-BAAMM!!

Simmons' head hit his car's steering wheel with such force that a large gash appeared on his forehead, blood streaming from the wound. Before Simmons could recover from the hit, his vehicle was plowed into again, this time making the S7 agent lose control completely. His black Monte Carlo careened off the road and began to barrel roll across the desert; sand, rocks and other debris shrouding the rolling vehicle. Finally, it came to rest on its top after seven and a half terrifying rotations, most of the glass shattered and cracked.

Simmons, although beaten up pretty badly, managed to free himself of the seatbelt and was feebly trying to crawl through the burst driver's side window, when a pair of black combat boots appeared in his bloody vision.

The stranger was dressed in a long black trench coat and a black mask with long slits over both eyes obscured his face. The slits began at the top of his forehead and ended halfway down his cheeks, giving the man a snake-like appearance. He held a 9 mm pistol directed straight between Simmon's eyes.

"Whoor you?" Simmon's slurred, head nodding side-to-side as he struggled to maintain consciousness.

The stranger's eyes narrowed slightly before he replied.

"Call me Zartan."

With that he lowered the pistol over Simmons' heart and fired.

* * *

Three hours after her mental torture, Dezba awoke to hear the sounds of the large door leading to her prison opening. A brief flash of relief coursed through her body as she hoped it was Thundercracker back from his flight patrol, but tonight, Fate seemed to enjoy playing games with her. The mech that came into view was not the blue Seeker, but the dreaded Communications Officer.

Dezba paled with fear, her sun-deprived skin turning almost translucent. "Stay away from me, you monster!" she growled, terror and anger mingling in her voice. She backed up against the wall, fists balled, body rigid, muscles tense.

"Request: Denied. Rumble, eject and bring human hostage."

It was déjà vu. Just as before, the frightened young woman put up a fight, and just as before she was beaten into submission before being bodily hauled from her cell and into the corridors. However, there was one slight difference.

Through the pain of her physical punishment, she felt a smoldering anger, an anger that was not her own. With each punch and with each brutal slap she felt the rage within intensify and there was nothing she could do to stop it or release it. She knew exactly who it was and silently pleaded for him to hurry.

Rumble had wrestled the girl into a fireman's carry and was walking just ahead of Soundwave as they navigated the twisting corridors. "Please! Don't do this to me!" she sobbed. "Please! What do I know that you could possibly need?"

"Information: Required," the monotone voice replied.

"What kind of information!?"

Her question was met with silence. Dezba decided she would not win this battle and it was best to wait and conserve energy. When they reached the same room as before, where the mind torture first took place, Dezba's rebellion flared anew. She kicked and struggled against the purple mini-bot as he struggled to get a firm hold on her. Dezba knew full well her very sanity depended on this last chance at liberty. She could only concentrate on escape, on freedom. Her legs had turned mostly purple from the bruises and fresh cuts decorated her knuckles and arms. The girl screamed, kicked and fought like a person possessed. Just remembering the last session with the Communications Officer was enough to cause phantom pains to ghost through her nervous system.

Finally getting a grip, Rumble slammed the girl onto the table, taking care to tighten the straps extra tight over her body and gagging her mouth with a piece of cord. He then returned to Soundwave, who had been patiently waiting to begin. Dezba's eyes widened with fear as she struggled violently to break her bonds. She did not want to relive the pain, the horror or the agony that this metal freak seemed to enjoy giving her. Tears flooded her eyes and blood streamed from gashes in her arms, legs and ribcage, the grisly results of her futile struggle against the straps, her screams muffled by the cord. As Soundwave approached Dezba could have sworn his red visor glinted in anticipation; she closed her eyes and braced herself for the onslaught. As Soundwave penetrated her mentality, Dezba screamed in agony, its muffled sound still managing to reverberate throughout the base.

* * *

Thundercracker knew time was short. He could feel the girl's growing trepidation; each passing minute it seemed to double in intensity. When the beatings had begun, he nearly stalled as her pain overwhelmed his nervous sensors. Rage quickly drowned the pain, however, as the indigo Seeker ignited his afterburners and seared across the sky, Skywarp right on his wingtips.

When Thundercracker touched down in the base he practically ran over the black Viper Runamuck in his haste to exit the entry bay. The blue Seeker was nearly blind with rage and pain; he could no longer discern whose sensations belonged to whom. He only wanted to stop it altogether.

"Thundercracker!? What are _you _doing…" Starscream's voice cut through the red haze, the brown Seeker's form blocking the corridor.

But Thundercracker just pushed his Commander aside, slamming the other Seeker with such force against the wall as to leave it dented with Starscream's body print. The brown Raptor stared in shock and outrage at Thundercracker's receding form. Turning his attention to the small gathering of Cons from the entry bay, he viciously pointed a clawed finger at the four Cons—namely Barricade, Skywarp, Runabout and Runamuck.

"Don't just stand there gaping, _STOP HIM!" _

"If _you_ couldn't stop him, how do you expect us to?" Barricade questioned innocently with one optic ridge raised.

Starscream's optics burned with an unholy light. "DON'T question my orders ground-pounder!" he said, aiming one of his Vulcan cannons at Barricade's spark chamber.

The burly black and white Con took a few steps backward, not really having any desire to look like a human's food known as Swiss cheese. "Yes, _Lord _Starscream," he replied, a hint of bitterness in his tone. In the background, Runabout and Runamuck were snickering quietly.

"Get moving!" the Saleen roared, clapping the Vipers over the back of their helms. The trio quickly followed after the storming blue jet.

Starscream then directed his assault on Skywarp. "What in the Pit is wrong with him?"

The black and purple F-15 merely shrugged his intakes. "You got me. I've been trying to figure him out for the past few million years without any luck," he said, deftly avoiding the question.

Starscream looked as if he was going to retort, but instead said, "Come on. I want to know what flew up his afterburners. _No one _gets off that easy without a good explanation or a good beating."

Thundercracker stormed through the corridors, his thunderous footsteps echoing throughout the base. With each stride, the pain grew more intense and the rage continued to grow. He was like a liquid propane tank in the middle of a burning inferno. Very soon that tank would explode from the boiling, lethal gases within, unleashing a devastating explosion that would be lethal to all within range.

Suddenly, a very muffled yet very distinct scream echoed through the corridors. He turned his head sharply in the direction of the scream, hellish optics narrowed. He quickly pinpointed the location of the sound. Dezba's sanity as well as his own depended on how quickly he found her.

Ice cold brutality met red hot rage within the confines of the young girl's mind. She vaguely wondered if this was how people with multiple personalities felt. Soundwave pushed deeper and harder into her mind intent on obliterating her last shreds of resistance.

Suddenly, a deafening animal-like roar filled her ears and the large metal door barring her from the outside was ripped from its hinges. She caught a glimpse of the hulking form of Thundercracker filling the doorway, before the blue Seeker tackled the black Nighthawk, both of them tumbling into the far wall.

"YOU WILL HARM HER NO MORE!" the indigo jet raged, punching Soundwave directly across the optical visor, causing it to all but shatter. The force of the blow sent Soundwave careening into the wall with Thundercracker following through on his attack. Soundwave dodged the next punch and instantly retaliated.

"Interference unappreciated," the Communications Officer said an icy edge on his usual monotone. Instantly, Thundercracker's mainframe came under assault by high intensity harmonic vibrations; to a human it would feel as if someone was blowing a coach's whistle directly into your ear.

The burly Seeker fell to one knee, clutching his audio receptors to try and dull the pain. "Thundercracker, you are requested to leave testing facility. Will you comply?" Soundwave asked, his attack lessening ever so slightly.

"Go…to the…Pit, Soundwave!" Thundercracker ground out between gritted teeth.

"Unable to comply with requested action." The sonic attack intensified.

Thundercracker knew the girl was suffering just as much as he was, he could barely distinguish her screams, but he could not counter-attack Soundwave with his own sonic assault without the chance of killing her. A sonic boom in this close of confined space would definitely injure her, if not outright kill her. Summoning all his strength, the blue jet struggled to his feet and then lunged for the Nighthawk. His unexpected action caught Soundwave by surprise, temporarily disrupting his attack. The two transformers collided and went down into a heap of flying sparks, thrashing limbs, and quivering wings.

A bright flash of purple appeared in the room and Skywarp materialized next to the table. Thundercracker had never felt more relieved. "Sky…Warp! Get the…girl…out…of…here!" he spat, full attention on Soundwave.

The purple and black Seeker nodded his head quickly and began to reach for the screaming, hysterical human.

"Rumble, Ravage. Eject: Retrieve human hostage."

"Oh, no you don't scrapheap!" Thundercracker growled, pushing his full weight onto Soundwave's cockpit to prevent it from opening. More punches were traded. Meanwhile, Skywarp easily snapped the bonds holding Dezba down and snatched her up in a clawed hand. Throwing Thundercracker one last glance, the black Seeker teleported out of the room in a flash of purple light.

At that moment Soundwave grabbed Thundercracker by the intakes and threw the F-15 off of him. Thundercracker was the first to his feet. He crouched low like a lion preparing to pounce, his wings were raised menacingly and the thrusters that would normally lie quietly on his lower back were twisted around and vectored forward, a soft blue-orange glow emanating from their openings.

"Now, it's my turn," he rumbled softly. Suddenly, the engines on either side of the Seeker's waist flared to a blindingly blue-white brilliance, the only split-second warning of what was to come.

The sonic boom shattered Soundwave's cockpit as well as his visor, rendering him visually blind. The force of the shockwave threw him through the wall where he remained motionless. Throughout the base any and all metal sheeting buckled, glass shattered, and concrete cracked. The computer screens in the Command Center burst from the intensity. In the corridors Starscream, Barricade, Runabout and Runamuck fell to the floor clutching their heads as energon streamed freely from damaged audio receptors; Starscream's cockpit shattered as well as the car window's that comprised the other three's alt modes. Sonic booms were not meant to be contained within a tiny, underground room, and the aftereffects showed.

After a breem, the Communications Officer struggled to rise, energon leaking from several damaged fuel lines, but before Thundercracker could continue his attack, he was tackled to the ground by two black and white forms.

"GET OFF ME, YOU FRAGGIN' GLITCHES!" the blue Seeker roared. The two Vipers struggled violently against the Con; it wasn't until Barricade joined the fray that they were able to bring the raging jet under control.

"What is your slagging problem!?" Barricade bellowed into Thundercracker's face, blood red optics inches from each other.

The blue Seeker struggled against the two Vipers, who had him by each arm and were twisting them back behind his back. Thundercracker snarled in pain as they continued to twist, but he answered Barricade's question.

"None of your fraggin' business, ground-grunt!"

Barricade viciously punched the Seeker across his cheek plates while Runabout and Runamuck twisted his arms even more severely. He roared in pain and struggled to free himself, thrusters beginning to glow white-hot once again.

Suddenly, Starscream's broad form filled the doorway and all stopped to stare at their leader. The shattered glass from his canopy prismed the energon droplets from his audio receptors. He surveyed the scene before him with disgust, wings vibrating in anger. His blood red optics searched out Thundercracker's; the blue Seeker met his angry gaze for a second before he raised his head defiantly.

"Thundercracker! What is the meaning of this!?"


	14. Revelations

**A/N: Welcome to Chapter 14, readers! This chapter will contain substantial dialogue, especially close to the end—but much is revealed and new questions will arise. Also, pay special attention to the chapter breaks as they will indicate a change in time. If this chapter comes across as confusing, it was kinda meant to be—all will be revealed later. If you have any questions, don't be afraid to ask! Now on with the story!**

**Chapter 14: Revelations**

Darkness. Complete and utter darkness. It was a Seeker's worst fear to be confined and plunged into darkness. How long had it been since he felt the sun's rays or the delicate kiss of the wind? Too long. Minutes had turned to hours and hours seemingly into days.

Thundercracker checked his internal chronometer to confirm his musings: three days. _Slag. _The indigo jet sagged under the weight of the chains. _Chains_. _Chained like a damned human pet!_ Thundercracker released a tired, longsuffering growl. No one else in the world knew best a Seeker's worst fear than a fellow Seeker. With this knowledge, Starscream was punishing him thoroughly and until he cracked or Dezba and Skywarp were found he was stuck here.

His scarlet optics roved the tiny holding cell he had been placed within. It was a small square piece of dirty masonry. His wingtips brushed the ceiling; thick, industrial logging chains firmly bound his legs to the filthy floor. The Seeker's arms were stretched out and above his helmeted head and picketed firmly into the base's foundation walls. It was a position that afforded the blue Eagle the least amount of leverage should he even attempt to escape. Starscream even had his laser cannons deactivated. His body sparked and fritzed from the various wounds across his chassis. Energon dribbled across the dark blue enamel, its bright pink fluid a striking contrast against the dark enamel. It puddled at the Seeker's feet, a melancholy pool serving to remind him as to just why he was here.

His optics settled on the middle of the cell. He began to reflect on what had transpired these past few days—how he had gone from one of the best Decepticon warriors to ever grace the sky to a beaten and humiliated wreck chained like a terrestrial animal. The most vivid memory had been Starscream beating the molten slag out of him, while he was being held no less. It had taken the combined efforts of Barricade, Runabout, and Runamuck to hold him down and "accept" his punishment—it was a small consolation.

His thoughts then strayed to Dezba and Skywarp. Were they OK? Did Warp take her back to Starscream? She had tried to contact him shortly after he had been restrained. He had warned her to stay away from the base until further notice. Needless to say, Dezba hadn't been happy with his orders and he knew that she would have grown even more worrisome after his "punishment." _Primus! She was so much like her. So strong-willed…_

_**Flashback…**_

"_Where do you get off telling me what to do?"_

"_Because I'm your brother, that's why!"_

"_Exactly! Brother not father, therefore you have no right to order me around! My superiors get that privilege!"_

"_Solarflare, I'm tellin' you don't do it! Something isn't right with this set-up. It could be a trap."_

"_Look, I know you're looking out for me, Thundercracker; you wouldn't be a good brother if you didn't. But I'm a fully upgraded Seeker now; I need to make my own decisions and I need to follow my superior's orders, now you can either help me or not. That's your call."_

_He gave a long sigh. "Alright, 'Flare. We'll do this together…"_

_**End Flashback…**_

The memory stung like hot acid spilt across his circuits. He didn't like to remember her; the memories were just too painful. And now when someone else was just beginning to rely on him, it seemed as if history was repeating itself. He would lose Dezba, just as he lost Solarflare and once again it would seem there was nothing he could do about it.

In the darkness, a tiny sparkle caught the light of the sparks cascading down his chest armor. Slowly the little sparkle made its way down the jagged surface to drop innocently into the pooled energon below—it was a tear.

* * *

_Three days earlier…_

About two miles away from the underground base, Skywarp warily watched as Dezba recovered from her faint. He sat on a large boulder in a small, secluded mountain meadow. It was the first time he had really even been around the human.

Dezba slowly sat up, not fully taking in her surroundings. She felt warm moisture around the base of her neck; she wearily touched a hand to the spot then brought it before her hazel eyes. Blood. She quickly followed the wet trail until it reached her ear, feeling the source of the flow; it was then she remembered everything—the mind-probing, Thundercracker's intervention, a horrible, high-pitched screeching, and then a black-colored clone of Thundercracker appearing next to her.

She heard a slight shuffling and turned quickly towards the noise. Sitting about ten yards away was Thundercracker's clone, black and purple in color. He had a somewhat questioning look on his faceplates and it was apparent he was uncomfortable with her presence.

She decided to try and be the first to break the ice. "Uh hi. You must be…uh…um…"

"Skywarp."

"Um yeah," she paused, an uncomfortable silence coming between them. "I…uh…I want to thank you for getting me out of there," Dezba finished awkwardly.

His optics narrowed ever so slightly. "TC told me to. He couldn't give Soundwave the aft-kicking he deserved with you in the way."

The hostility was muted but didn't escape her notice; instead it only served to rile her up.

"Look here you overgrown trash heap," Dezba shouted, climbing unsteadily to her feet, "I didn't ask to be here! I _didn't _ask to be freaking mind-_raped_, and I sure as hell didn't ask you to step-in to rescue me! So if you have a problem with my being here, take it up with Thundercracker and don't take it out on me!

"Wait! Thundercracker! Oh my God! He's still in the base!" She stared at Skywarp in horror.

Skywarp had never seen anyone or (anything for that matter) change moods quite so quickly; it left him feeling perplexed to say the least. "What?" he said, irritation and confusion mingling in his voice.

"Thundercracker," Dezba exclaimed, "he's still in the base! I need to see if he's OK." She sat back down on the soft ground and pressed her fingertips to her temples in concentration. "_Thundercracker?"_

"_Dezba. Good…to know you're safe. Stay away from the base. Tell…Warp to stay away."_

"_But what about you? Are you OK? When—"_

"_I will get to you and Skywarp when I can, until then stay low," _he said weakly, cutting her off.

She could feel the link weakening and knew he would break contact shortly, but she clung on, desperate to remain close to the one being she had come to regard as a friend in this strange and dangerous new world.

Skywarp just watched. Femmes were complicated anyway and human femmes just took it to a whole different level. As he watched the human try and contact his friend telepathically, her words echoed through his mind. Maybe she was right; maybe he shouldn't take his frustration out on her. After all, Thundercracker _was_ the one who had brought her here to begin with and Skywarp knew that his friend wasn't telling him everything. Now that he was an accomplice to her escape, he might as well try a different approach and hear the squishy's side of this strange story. Thundercracker was never a mech to elaborate on details; maybe she would be more forthcoming. Bring on the processor-ache.

Suddenly, a violent spasm racked Dezba's body. She gasped both from fright and pain as it intensified causing her to fall onto her back. She clutched her chest, half expecting to see blood, but found none. The blind spasms continued for what felt like an eternity, causing her to scream out in pain on more than one occasion.

All Skywarp could do was stare. _So it is true. What one feels the other does as well. What in the Pit is happening to TC now? Twice now this has happened and I can't do a slagging thing about it!_

Finally the torment ended. She turned a tear-streamed face back to Skywarp. "He's in trouble," she mumbled, her voice barely audible.

"I gathered that after watching you lay on the ground screaming like a mech possessed," Skywarp said sarcastically. "I am aware of your little mind link thing with him."

"He told you?" a fearful undertone creeping into her voice.

"Yeah, he did—after he plowed a ditch the size of your Grand Canyon with his nosecone," he said, a humorous light in his optics. "At the time it scared the slag out of me, but he gave me the short version of what's going on between you two. I was kinda hoping you could explain things a little better seeing as how I'm stuck in this mess too."

Dezba regarded the black Seeker with her hazel eyes. It was obvious this Decepticon was close to Thundercracker, much more so than any of the others; if he had ordered Skywarp to take her and also revealed their secret to him, then it was a logical conclusion to believe he could be trusted.

"OK, I'll do the best I can," the girl replied. She stood unsteadily and walked over to the towering Con. She sat at his feet and began to relate her story, now quite well-rehearsed. Some things she needed to break down a little more for Skywarp to understand (she surmised he wasn't as bright as some of the others) but for the most part he seemed to understand and accepted her account.

"…so just a few minutes ago when I was speaking with him, he warned us both not to come back to the base; they've had to have done something horrible for me to feel _his_ pain," Dezba finished. She looked up at Skywarp, "Why wouldn't he want Starscream to know about this? This could have all been avoided if he had just said something!"

The black and purple jet raised a clawed finger and scratched the back of his neck in irritation. "I can't answer that one. That's between you and him, but if I know TC he must have a pretty good reason."

"So what are we going to do now?" Dezba asked. "We can't stay here and we can't go back there, not to mention those crazy guys who killed my family are still after me." She sighed in aggravation.

"Do you feel like a flight?" he asked suddenly, breaking her deliberation.

"Isn't that risky?"

"Sure. But it's better than sitting here just waiting for someone to find us, besides I always think better when I'm in the air anyway," he said, standing to his full height and scooping Dezba up in the process. Before she had time to protest she was tossed into his cockpit and they were off shooting up into the clouds high above the earth. Dezba had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to go well.

* * *

_Present day…_

A door squealed protestingly on its hinges as it creaked open. A shaft of light penetrated the dark holding cell of Thundercracker's prison. Loud, reverberating footsteps reached the imprisoned mech's audio sensors, but it didn't illicit any sign of acknowledgement. The footsteps stopped before him and Thundercracker grudgingly lifted his head to see Starscream standing before him.

His Commander's face was an unreadable wall of metal, his optics a subdued color of red. Thundercracker waited patiently for him to speak.

"Thundercracker," Starscream began, taking a step closer to his SIC, "I know that there is something between you and the human and it would be best for all involved if you informed me what that may be."

Silence.

"Why are you doing this!?" Starscream snarled. "What significance is the human to you that you would put yourself through this? Answer me!"

Thundercracker's optics flickered briefly. How much did Starscream know? How much had Soundwave divulged? Was it possible for them to already know and now they were waiting on a confession?

"How much do you know?" he rasped.

"I know that she possesses a type of Allspark energy; Soundwave came into contact with it during his first interrogation," the beige Seeker answered.

_Well, that's news but it certainly makes sense. _But his revolution quickly turned to anger. "Interrogation?!" he husked angrily, "More like a torture session! Do you have any idea what you put that human through?!"

"When did you begin to let your Autobot sentimentality take over, Thundercracker?" Starscream countered. "You used to would have not even given a _slag, _let alone nearly kill one of my subordinates in a human's defense!"

"You're right!" Thundercracker roared back, his voice gaining strength from his anger. "I wouldn't have! But this is different!"

"How different, Thundercracker!?" Starscream paused, mulling over all the previous events. Then an idea came to him. "I know where this is coming from," he whispered. His optics glowed like hellfire as the idea took root. "She reminds you of her, doesn't she?"

Thundercracker's optics flared in anger, but he quickly looked away.

"Yes, I see the similarities. She reminds you of Solarflare—that fire, that passion, a blatant disrespect for authority…it makes sense that you would get defensive over a creature that reminds you so much of her," Starscream taunted, trying to antagonize Thundercracker into a defense.

"Do NOT speak of my sister," Thundercracker growled menacingly.

"But it's true, isn't it? I've only ever seen you that angry when your sister's spark was on the line. Trying to make up for the past, Thundercracker? Trying to repent of a sin that has damned you to a life of servitude in the Decepticon ranks?" Starscream hissed in his audio receptor.

"ENOUGH!" the indigo Seeker roared, the chains rattling angrily as he thrashed against his bonds. "You know NOTHING about me, Starscream!"

"On the contrary, Thundercracker, I know a great deal about you and it would be in your human's best interest if you told me _everything_ about her. Believe me," Starscream rasped, holding Thundercracker's chin in a clawed hand, "Soundwave's methods will be like sparkling's play compared to what I'm capable of."

"Go to THE PIT! I will see her in the hands of the Autobots before I allow your grease-covered claws to touch her!"

"So you would damn our race to extinction!? That human may possess a clue to Cybertron's revival and you would deny us that opportunity!?"

"There are other ways to get her cooperation than using force and experimentation!" Thundercracker rumbled, anger still seething in his optics. "Of all the mechs I know, I would have thought you would have realized that to begin with!"

Before Starscream could retaliate another mech stumbled into the holding cell—it was Runabout. "Commander Starscream!"

"What, you insignificant scrapheap!?"

"It's Skywarp! Barricade has found Skywarp!"

Both Thundercracker and Starscream looked at Runabout; he shrunk from their intense stares.

"Was the human with him?" Starscream asked, facing Thundercracker again to gauge his reaction.

"No, sir. Barricade found him barely functional and surrounded by humans. They retreated with the girl before Barricade could engage," Runabout informed them. "Barricade is waiting to brief you."

"Dismissed Runabout."

"Yes, sir." With that the white Viper turned and left the cell, leaving Starscream and Thundercracker alone once more.

"See what your foolishness has done now?" Starscream hissed angrily. "If you hadn't allowed your pathetic Autobot morals to interfere, we would still have the human!"

Thundercracker weighed his options for the playing field had changed drastically now. The cobalt Seeker raised his head and met Starscream's intense glare. "I have claimed her as my charge and as such I will take on the responsibility of retrieving her. Would you be willing to negotiate a trade?"

Starscream considered Thundercracker's words. "What did you have in mind?"

"I will tell you of my connection with the girl, if you release me and allow me to retrieve her."

"How do I know you will honor your word, soldier? You betrayed me when you attacked Soundwave and ordered Skywarp to free her; this entire situation is because of you," Starscream pointed out.

"Then allow me to rectify it, Starscream. You were right on one thing. Dezba does remind me of my sister, so much it almost rends my spark in two when I think about it. " He hung his head in shame and pain, trying to douse the memories.

Starscream saw a river of emotions flash across the other's countenance—anger, regret, sadness. He knew these emotions had plagued the dark blue Cybertronian for eons--he had been there when it occurred. In all the time he knew Thundercracker as a Decepticon, he had done everything for a reason. Why should this be any different? He decided to give in to his gut instinct.

"Very well, Thundercracker. Tell me what you know and I will release you to retrieve the human," he paused for a brief instant, "I will also rethink my methods for discovering her true capabilities, should any exist."

Thundercracker merely nodded his head, but his optics burnt like red flames. Starscream quickly released the blue jet of his bonds then followed him as they made their way from the darkest depths of the base. Time was short.


	15. The Art of Revenge

**A/N: Welcome to chapter 15, readers. In this chapter, I'll take you back and fill in the details of Skywarp and Dezba's lost days, so to speak. I hope that by doing this, I've built Warp up as a character in this story. He may play some pivotal roles later down the road. Thanks again for reading and please enjoy! Also, _italics _indicates a flashback.**

**Chapter 15: The Art of Revenge**

Thundercracker stepped out of the repair bay feeling like a brand new mech. He flexed his arms and stretched his wings until the very tips brushed the ceiling. All his injuries had been completely repaired, including the ones from his crash in the forest. Now it was time to meet with Starscream and determine a plan of action.

Behind him Barricade finished cleaning the various tools used in his repair. "Don't get too comfortable, flesh lover," he growled in a low, menacing tone.

Thundercracker turned to regard the interceptor. "You got a problem, ground-grunt?" he snarled back in an equally dangerous voice.

"Yeah, it's standing in my way," Barricade replied, stepping up to the blue Seeker. Standing at just chest level on the jet, Barricade could still be considered a very dangerous foe. There was a very good reason that the Saleen was considered to be the best shock trooper in the Decepticon army. He glared at Thundercracker, his vehemence nearly palpable. "Starscream may have gone easy on you, but don't expect the rest of us to welcome you back with open arms, _traitor._"

Barricade stood inches from the burly jet; the stare-down continued for a minute longer before the black and white Con snorted derisively and walked down the corridor towards the Command Center.

Thundercracker continued to stand in the doorway of the repair bay, his optics searing the spot Barricade had vacated. His thoughts were on the interceptor's last word—_traitor. _It was a two-edged sword and Barricade knew it.

He needn't worry about the Saleen faultily repairing him; his repair job would be subject to Starscream's scrutiny—no, he would need to watch his tailfins on the battlefield—where _anything_ could go wrong. He turned and followed Barricade's path down the darkened hallway.

When he reached the Command Center, the reception was less than warm—in fact, Thundercracker could feel the stone cold hostility attack his sensors. On the right side of the room stood Barricade, Runabout and Runamuck flanking either side. Barricade's optics still held a murderous storm, but the rest of his features were unreadable. The two twins glowered and sneered quietly behind his back. Thundercracker discerned words such as "pet" and "human-lover." It rankled that he couldn't put them their place, but there was a time and place for every lesson and now was neither the time nor place.

On the left hand side of the room, stood Skywarp and Soundwave. The black and purple Seeker had taken quite a beating from the humans. Had Barricade not been on his trail hunting him and the girl down, Skywarp would have probably ended up as a sick wall display. He had been in the repair bay offline when Thundercracker entered for his repairs. The blue jet felt a pang of guilt in his spark; it was his fault that his one friend had almost been terminated. He made a mental note to see Skywarp as soon as this meeting was over. The aforementioned Seeker had a detached look on his face, an expression that clearly said 'I'd-rather-be-anywhere-than-here'.

Standing the closest to the front of the room was Soundwave. Starscream had given him a brief account of the Communication Officer's repair. The Air Commander himself repaired the damage dealt by Thundercracker's hand (and thrusters). Most of the injuries were moderately serious but not life-threatening. Like Thundercracker, the Communication Officer had been built to withstand all types of frequencies and intensities of sound. Thundercracker studied the black mech before him; the new visor glinted unemotionally under the weak lighting. Unlike Skywarp, he didn't feel an ounce of guilt for his actions against the F-117. Soundwave had attempted and nearly succeeded in destroying his and Dezba's mind. Even though Starscream had given the order, Soundwave could have opted to use less "invasive" methods of persuasion.

His thoughts strayed to Dezba while they awaited Starscream's arrival. He had been unable to establish contact with the human since he had learned of her capture; it disturbed him deeply. If only he could connect with her, he could obtain some knowledge as to her whereabouts, but as he stood now, they had only Barricade's intelligence to go on.

Suddenly, Starscream appeared in the entranceway, his bulk blocking the lighting of the hallways. After pausing in the doorway to assess his soldiers, Starscream then walked slowly up the center of the room to stand beside Soundwave. It was time to begin the meeting.

* * *

"He's dead, Optimus! Agent Simmons…I couldn't get there in time…It happened so quickly…" Bumblebee exclaimed in a rush of words.

Optimus looked up from his station in the Command Center. "Slow down, Bumblebee," the Autobot leader said calmly while placing his hands on the scout's shoulder. "Now tell me what has happened to Agent Simmons." Optimus had not seen Bumblebee this agitated since the battle at Mission City.

The yellow scout drew a deep draught of air through his intake manifold in an attempt to steady his processor. "He's been terminated, Optimus, sir," the scout replied in much more even tone.

"You are positive, Bumblebee?"

"Yes, sir. I found his vehicle overturned approximately 45 miles south of Mission City. He had been shot through the human's primary circulatory organ."

Optimus released his hold of the scout's shoulders; his expression showed deep concern. "Did you see who committed this crime?"

"No, sir. I was following him just as you ordered, staying just out of sight and keeping track on my scanner. When his vehicle stopped I continued until I was in optical range. But by the time I got within that range this is what I found." The scout proceeded to show the Autobot leader a holographic recording of the grisly scene.

When Optimus had seen the full recording, he shuttered his optics and raised a hand to his forehead, slowly shaking it back and forth.

"I notified the human law enforcement as soon as possible, but they do not know it was I," Bumblebee added.

"Very good, Bumblebee. We must assemble the other Autobots immediately. I cannot help but assume that Simmon's death is somehow related to the information he gave us shortly before leaving."

* * *

"Skywarp, I must speak with you."

"What?" the black Seeker replied with unveiled hostility.

Thundercracker approached his wingmate with steady strides. He knew that Skywarp would probably be more than a little angry with him after these past events. He only hoped that Skywarp would forgive him; if not, well, Thundercracker had walked the loner's path long before he and Skywarp were friends. If necessary, he would do it again.

"What happened?" the indigo Cybertronian asked.

"Do you really have to ask, Thundercracker? I got the slag beat out of me by a bunch of Pit-spawned fleshbags, no thanks to you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have Starscream's orders to fill." Skywarp turned to walk down the corridor, but was brought up short when a clawed hand grabbed his right wingtip, spun him around and slammed him into the wall.

"Warp, listen to me and listen good because I don't like to repeat myself. I apologize to you for pulling you into this predicament; Primus knows I had enough on my landing struts when this happened. But of all the bots in this base, I thought you would be first to understand my actions, especially since you were there when I augered into the dirt!" Thundercracker released his iron hold on Skywarp's shoulder. He then continued, "She's not just a human, Skywarp!"

"I know, slag it!" the black jet retorted angrily. "You've told me this before!"

"Tell me what happened, Warp," repeated Thundercracker, his steady gaze boring into Skywarp's own optics.

At first, the blue jet didn't think his wingmate would answer him. Skywarp looked away from him and stared at the floor with such intensity, the cobalt Con thought he'd melt a hole in the floor. When Skywarp did speak, his voice was muted and shamed.

"We should have stayed where we were, at least we would have been within com distance…

"_Do you feel like a flight?"_

"_Isn't that risky?"_

"_Sure. But it's better than sitting here just waiting for someone to find us, besides I always think better when I'm in the air anyway," he said, standing to his full height and scooping Dezba up in the process. Before she had time to protest she was tossed into his cockpit and they were off shooting up into the clouds high above the earth. Dezba had a sinking feeling that this wasn't going to go well._

_They flew for the better part of the night and for once Skywarp didn't have a whole lot to say. He was busy mulling all this new information over in his processor, trying to make heads or tails of the situation. He knew that the human was valuable—that much was clear. However things began to grow a little murky when he considered other stakeholders in this game. On one hand, there was Starscream, his leader and trinemate. And as such, Starscream should be the first to know of anything that seemed strange and out of place—such as the human's strange connection with TC. But it seemed as if Screamer was in the dark as much as everyone else with the exception of Thundercracker. Which, that led into his next concern, TC. The largest Seeker of the three, Thundercracker was the type of mech who really didn't want to have anything to do with anyone. Their friendship had solidified purely on the basis of Skywarp's dogged determination to never leave the big, blue Con alone. Over the centuries, the blue Seeker had slowly opened up to reveal a few tidbits of his life, once he realized he would have a permanent second shadow. But there was still a great deal Skywarp did not know of his friend. In fact, he had tried to find out several times Thundercracker's past—where he came from, who his creators were, why he joined the Decepticons—but each time he was met with Thundercracker's deadly glare or a warning from Starscream that he was cruising to a quick and early deactivation, most often it was both. He eventually learned to leave well enough alone and just accepted the fact that he may never know._

_But the human instigated a whole new avenue of curiosity. Sure he knew that TC and the fleshling had a weird (and somewhat disgusting) mental connection. But why go to the extreme of protecting her as if she were a fellow Cybertronian-in-arms? Self-preservation, perhaps? Nah, if anything TC was the type of mech that would welcome termination. Skywarp growled in frustration. Would he ever completely understand his seemingly psychotic wingmate? And most mechs thought he was a few bolts short of a fully functioning processor…Ha, as if!_

_He focused his scanners inward on the girl. She was resting against his cockpit glass staring morosely out over the landscape. All this hype over one pathetic fleshling._

_Dezba allowed her thoughts to wander as she watched the scenery below her flash by in a blur of greens, browns, and yellows. Was Thundercracker OK? Would he make it to meet them? Since her life had turned into a living hell that fateful night at dinner, he, whether willingly or not, had become her one anchor point. He was the one robot she did not fear. Starscream terrified her, even if he was the mech that had doctored her. And yeah, let's not even mention Soundwave. Barricade had little love for humans as it was and the two Vipers—well, as long as they could wreak havoc they were satisfied to leave her alone. Was staying with the Decepticons such a good idea? Then again, where could she have gone? It wasn't as if she could have walked out anytime she pleased. _

_Skywarp's idea for a flight soothed her nerves somewhat. Her first flight had been with Thundercracker and although it had some scary elements to it, deep down she had enjoyed it. Flying with Skywarp produced the same calming effect and since she was awake to fully enjoy it she marveled at how good it felt. It seemed almost as if she had left every problem she ever had back on the ground—it was a very liberating feeling._

_Skywarp's voice broke into her musings. "What do you think, human?" He yawed slightly to the left and allowed her a more comprehensive view of the earth below. _

_She stared in awe, taking in every minute detail she could. Farms appeared as a multi-colored green and brown patchwork quilt; the roads resembled the threads that would bind such a beautiful sight. Further on the horizon, she saw the great Rocky Mountains glistening in the early morning light. It was absolutely stunning. "It's gorgeous," she whispered to the glass._

_Skywarp slowly righted his flight path and began a slow turn back towards the mountains. Suddenly, the black Eagle rotated into a vicious barrel-roll slamming Dezba into the glass and reminding her of past injuries that had yet to completely heal._

"_What was that for!?" she cried indignantly._

"_Shut-up, squishy!" came the retort, followed by another vicious roll. This time, Dezba caught sight of what instigated the jet's sporadic behavior. A plume of gray smoke shot past Skywarp's upraised wingtip and disappeared into the cloudbank ahead. It was a missile._

"_Shit! Where did THAT come from!?"_

"_Them," the black and purple Con replied easily. Dezba quickly turned around in the seat to see a squadron of almost twelve dots tailing their smoke trail. At that point she faced forward, her face white and blank; robotically she began to fasten the safety harness. _

_The next few minutes became the most terrifying and exhilarating moments in the girl's life. Skywarp dove, rolled, and flipped in a series of aerobatic maneuvers that would have made a Blue Angel pilot jealous. The intense g-forces pushed Dezba's consciousness to the limit. Several times she blacked out only to wake up several seconds later about to engage in another evasive maneuver. Skywarp then executed a perfect Kulbit, forcing his pursuers to overshoot their target and allowing the Seeker to slip in behind them. He launched his own assault, and cackled gleefully as three jets began to smoke and tilt earthward._

_However the remaining nine quickly banked and countered his assault. Even though Skywarp was more powerful one-on-one than the human's F-22s, he was no match for their numbers and combined firepower. He rolled again as another volley of missiles streaked passed his ailerons, but this time, he wasn't so lucky. One missile clipped his left wingtip. The black Con growled in pain as he began to spin towards the ground. Dezba covered her eyes having no desire to see the earth well up to meet them. Then, she felt the aircraft slowly pitch upwards and heard Skywarp groan with effort. She uncovered her eyes to see that they were skimming the tree tops and making a beeline for a large canyon. Dezba turned around to see if the jets were still following—they were, flying at a slightly higher altitude and strangely, not attacking._

"_They know…you're with me," her transport ground out. "That and they won't fire on me at this low of altitude—not with so many fraggin'…human residences…around."_

"_Yeah, OK," she replied, casting a glance to his injured wing. "How's that wing?"_

"_Painful. Going to land…in this canyon…try and hold 'em off until reinforcements…arrive."_

_She nodded silently as the foreboding canyon swallowed them into its shadowy depths. Skywarp's landing was less than gentle. He began to transform midflight while simultaneously reaching inside his cockpit and withdrawing his terrified passenger. He clutched her tightly to his chassis and hit the ground hard on his right shoulder, rolling with the impact to prevent further damage. Dezba screamed hysterically as she was tightly curled in his fist. What had been a peaceful, reflective flight had turned into the amusement park ride from hell. Skywarp ground to a stop in a cloud of red dust; he was on his back, one arm outstretched above his head, the other firmly pressed against his shattered cockpit. _

_Slowly, he opened his hand to see the human shaking uncontrollably, but alive nonetheless. With a grunt, he rolled to his side and deposited the quivering heap in the dirt, then unsteadily climbed to his feet._

_Dezba wrapped her arms around her head as a shower of dirt and small pebbles rained down upon her. As the second cloud of dust slowly drifted apart she could distinguish Skywarp's large, metallic feet on either side of her. Shakily, she stood up and brushed the dust from her clothing. Her ribs ached dully, but otherwise she felt OK. _

"_There's a shallow cave behind me. Hide there," came the command from somewhere high up. _

"_But why…"_

"_DO IT NOW, FLESHBAG!" _

_The intensity of his command, cut off any more words she was about to say. Casting another glance up at the towering Seeker, she quickly ran for the shadowy opening. She crouched behind a smile pile of talus and cautiously watched the opening of the box canyon. It wasn't long that she understood why Skywarp had been so brusque with her—she distinctly heard the rumble of several vehicles._

_The black and purple jet crouched low to the ground. A pink, viscous fluid mixed with the dirt caked around his injured wing, creating a vile-looking brownish sludge that slowly matriculated down his wing and onto his lower chassis. His weaponry thrummed in the silence adding to his dangerous air. He resembled a giant, living shadow in the bright sunlight and death and destruction radiated from his being. These pathetic insects had dared to attack him, Skywarp! His pride screamed for retribution._

_Slowly the caravan of vehicles approached the angered Decepticon, but these particular vehicles were unlike any he had ever seen or scanned. A multitude of humans climbed from these strange war vehicles like a swarm of nanobots, each armed with a rifle-like weapon. Some were dressed in blue uniforms with German-style helmets. Red kerchiefs shielded their faces from view. Dezba also noted a strange snake-like sigil on the front of each one's ches; she had never seen that symbol before. Others were dressed exactly as the SWAT team that had attacked her home those few days before. One human stepped out in front of the others. He looked strangely out of place wearing a black business suit. He removed his shades to reveal eyes as cold as ice._

"_Give us the girl, Decepticon, and we may leave your scrapheap of a body for your buddies to find."_

"_I don't take orders from insects, like you," Dezba heard Skywarp reply, poison dripping from each word. "The human belongs to us."_

"_I was afraid you'd say that. Oh well, have it your way. Turn him into a molten puddle, boys!"_

_The fight that ensued raged for three long, agonizing hours. During that span of time, Skywarp fought like a black demon. The strange, tank-like vehicles packed the worst punch; several of those were armed with a powerful rail cannon that all but destroyed the Seeker's thick Cybertronian armor. The ground units were armed with laser rifles that seemed to be straight from a sci-fi movie. In fact, the whole battle seemed to be straight from a sci-fi movie. _

_Dezba watched helplessly as her surrogate protector fought to save their lives. She tried desperately to contact Thundercracker, to alert him of their plight, but was met with only a blank void. _

_Suddenly, a thunderous crash whipped her out of her thoughts. She stared in alarm and fear at Skywarp's shattered baulk lying in the dirt. Without thinking, she ran from the cave screaming his name._

"_Skywarp! NO!"_

_Dezba rushed to his side and desperately tried to climb up to his cockpit. Rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her off the blackened and charred metal. She saw Skywarp's hand move feebly in her direction, as if he was still trying to protect her. His optics flashed intermittently before dimming altogether. She screamed into the night wind, fighting the men for all she was worth. Several of them would be black and blue by morning. But it was all for naught. They drug her before the well-dressed leader and stood at attention on either side._

_Dezba gasped as she recognized the very man who had ruined her life. "You!"_

"_Yes, me Ms. Collins," he said silkily, before grabbing her roughly by the arm. "You'll be staying with us from now on." The man then produced a large syringe and drove it deep into her shoulder. She gasped again before collapsing to the ground as the sedative took instant affect. The stranger gave a sickening laugh as he watched her get tossed into the backseat of an armored SUV. "Your metal friends can't save you now!"_

Thundercracker stared into Skywarp's optics for the longest time. Skywarp returned the stare with one of equal intensity. "Barricade came shortly after they left. It wouldn't surprise me one bit if that fragger watched them beat the slag out of me before coming to help. It took us the remainder of the day to make it back here," Skywarp snarled softly. He turned his helm away once again. "I tried my best, TC, but those slaggin' germs had me outgunned and outnumbered. I was low on energy as it was, but even if I was at full power I don't think I'd have been able to hold them off."

"I'm surprised you held them off as long as you did, Warp. Three earth hours is a long time to fight a battle you knew you couldn't win," Thundercracker said quietly. "If their weapons are as powerful as you say they are we may have our work cut out for us."

"Believe me, TC. I've been shot at many times by humans, but the power this group of insects packed…" he trailed off, "well, you saw what happened." Suddenly he turned and punched the wall with such viciousness that Thundercracker withdrew a step.

"I knew she was important to you, TC!" Skywarp raged. "And bumbling ol' Skywarp had to go and mess things up as usual!" He slowly withdrew his fist from the crater in the wall; he felt Thundercracker place a hand on his shoulder.

"Listen to me, Warp. I'm the one to blame for this whole mess and I'm going to be the one to set things right. You did what was right by you and I don't fault anyone but my own stupidity," he paused trying to think of the best way to phrase his next words. "I want to…thank you for your loyalty to me, Skywarp. Not since I've lost my sister has anyone stood by side as you have these past three solar cycles."

Skywarp slowly turned and faced the hulking blue Seeker. He was shocked to say the least. In all the millennia he had known Thundercracker he had not once heard the blue Seeker mention any family of any kind, let alone a sister. Confusion and shock mixed across his countenance at this revelation. "You have a sister?" he asked tentatively.

"Had," came the brusque reply. "In another life before I sold my soul to the Unmaker himself." Bitterness permeated each word, but just as quickly as it came it left. "Let's go, Warp. We've got some unfinished business to take of. I want to show these meatbags exactly what it means to take from the Decepticons!"

"Now you're speaking my lingo, TC. Let's go catch up with the others!"

Together the two wingmates entered the entry bay, transformed and blasted out of the base, their afterburners setting the sky on fire. They would pay. They would pay _dearly_ for what they had done—not only for taking Dezba, but for nearly offlining Skywarp as well and if there was one thing Thundercracker had perfected over the eons, it was the art of revenge.


	16. The Boneyard

**A/N: Wow guys, my longest chapter EVER! It starts out a little slow, but get's more interesting as you read on. For me, it's my new favorite chapter thus far. Oh, and just to try and clarify things for you, I want it to be clear that this story is not another human-turned-Allspark fic. It may seem that way, but I promise you, it will not end that way. *Gives evil snicker* Please excuse any typos; if you find some let me know and I'll fix. Anyways, tell me watcha guys think!**

**Chapter 16: The Boneyard**

Starcream's strategy seemed deceptively easy for once. The objective: find and destroy the location known as the Boneyard. Thanks in part to Barricade's interrogations of two now-deceased S7 agents, the Decepticons had at least one lead to follow in the aftermath of the human's disappearance. With any amount of luck, Starscream's soldiers would be able to reach the base and take back what was rightfully theirs.

Needless to say, Thundercracker and Skywarp needed no encouragement to catch up with the others and fly south towards Tuscan, Arizona. Starscream flew at the head of the trine with Thundercracker and Skywarp taking up their old positions slightly behind and to the left and right respectively. Soundwave flew at a higher altitude, actively scanning the surrounding airspace for interceptors while simultaneously providing a jamming signal for the others. Barricade, Runabout and Runamuck were not far behind. The three muscle cars were roaring down the highway with the police interceptor leading the way, sirens wailing and lights blazing. Human drivers swerved haphazardly to get out of the way of the oncoming "authority" figures.

It had been months since the Decepticons had engaged in any type of large-scale confrontation—internal disputes aside. It was time for the world to tremble once more at the might of the Decepticons.

By nightfall most of Starscream's Decepticons had assembled on one of the desert ridges that surrounded the Boneyard. Hundreds of acres of planes lined the desert floor in neat, crisp rows. Some were early fighters and bombers from a bygone era, others were large transport prop jobs that sat idly, waiting for the maintenance crews to come and strip them of all useful machinations, but all were silent sentinels over a desolate land. How was it even possible for S7 to have a base in this useless spit of desert? But as Starscream pondered this question he knew that the humans could be shrewd enemies. After all, they had successfully hidden Megatron and the AllSpark deep within one of their hydroelectric structures.

The sound of approaching engines made the Decepticon leader turn and survey the desert behind him. Three sets of headlights were quickly closing on their position. All at once the headlights dimmed, but the vehicles themselves continued onward. Several astroseconds later saw Barricade and his mini- entourage transform and rejoin the others. _Good. We are all assembled, _Starscream mused to himself.

"Barricade, what is the status of the human's base of operations?" the beige jet asked his scout, even as the black and white cruiser was stepping forward.

"According to my scans, the majority of the base is located underground. It appears they are in the process of abandoning this facility. Already several large transport units have left from the facility's south side byway of an underground passage."

"Any sign of the human?"

"None, Lord Starscream," Barricade replied. "However…"he trailed off and leveled an expectant gaze on one of the Vipers.

Runamuck looked at Barricade and Starscream in turn before speaking. "I hacked into the human's files and discovered an interesting bit of information," he said quietly. "Although we did not find the human girl we did discover that one of her paternal units is in charge of this base—one Michael Richards."

Starscream's optics brightened with the news. "Interesting," he growled softly. "And you're positive she is not here?"

"We could not find her biological signature, my Lord," Runabout confirmed. "But that does not mean she isn't here. The humans could be shielding her energy."

Starscream nodded his head as if in agreement. A clawed hand absently stroked the underside of his chin as he mulled over their options. His optics glanced over to Thundercracker, conveying a silent question. The blue Seeker nodded his head once then turned his attention back to the seemingly empty airplane graveyard.

To enter the base might prove suicidal; their large size would limit their freedom of movement and ability to evade hostile fire. On the other hand, if they waited out here in the desert, the humans would escape little by little. They didn't even have the option of attacking a departing convoy. One missing truck would alert the others that something was amiss, an occurrence Starscream did not want to happen. This operation would call for stealth.

"All right. This is what we're going to do," he began, pointing a clawed finger at Barricade. "I want you and Soundwave to infiltrate the base using your human holograms. Runabout and Runamuck will accompany you as well. Your jobs will be to search this installation from top to bottom. Find the human." He turned his attention to Soundwave. "Infiltrate their mainframe. I want to know everything possible about these insects, particularly why this pathetic substructure still exists and what they plan on doing with the girl. The rest of us will wait outside. Once you have completed your tasks, notify me immediately. Dismissed."

Starscream and his wingmates watched as the others left to begin their mission. Now came the hard part—waiting. Starscream cast another searching look at the metallic indigo jet. Since their little "chat," Thundercracker had said little. He still found it rather intriguing that such a connection between mech and human could be even possible. It didn't take a rocket scientist to put Soundwave's data and his own observations together and come to a logical conclusion—somehow the Allspark's energy had opened a channel of mental communication between them. But what Starscream wanted to know was why _Thundercracker _of all mechs? And better yet, why a _Decepticon? _

* * *

Light and darkness mingled and shifted into shadows of varying degree. Voices sounded muted, slow and garbled, like an old tape player that has been abused throughout the years. Suddenly the mixture of shadows and light began to swirl and grow gradually brighter. _The familiar white mist began to form. She could feel the soft, cool droplets of vapor caress her skin as she walked through this strange cloud. As she walked, the strange fog began to part and Dezba saw the peculiar, metallic landscape take shape once again. This time, she recognized the land as Cybertron, Thundercracker's homeland and as it was before, the landscape was pitted and smoking. Great gaping holes and shattered buildings surrounded her. Many structures were like metal skeletons of steel, silently keeping vigil over a grim and deserted land. She stared at the decimated sight before her eyes; she had never seen such widespread destruction before. Dezba could tell that this city, at one time, was a great and beautiful gem. A few towering spires still stood against the skyline, a mournful monument to past splendor; bits and pieces of metal would occasionally fall from the sides as if the buildings themselves were crying to the heavens._

_As she turned to her right, two large silhouettes appeared deep within the fog. Curiosity overcoming her better judgment, Dezba decided to creep closer to watch the two mysterious figures. Large pieces of debris and shattered sheets of metal offered plenty of cover for her tiny form. As she crept closer, Dezba caught the glimmer of dark, metallic armor in holes of the mist. The other robot did not appear to be as dark in color. She crawled closer. Another opening in the fog provided a clearer view of the two Cybertronians._

_What she saw next made Dezba gasp in surprise. One of the mechs was Thundercracker! It had to be! She would recognize his form anywhere. His shape was slightly different; it seemed more jagged and had sharper edges. The clean lines of the F-15 were no longer present, but he still resembled an aircraft of some kind. His massive wings rose high above his shoulders and the brilliant, blue-black armor shimmered in the mist. She instinctively knew that this strange mech was him. But who was he talking with?_

_She focused her attention on the machine standing next to him. Small details began to pop out at her. This machine was not nearly as bulky or as tall as Thundercracker; the sharp jagged lines of alien armor were still present, but they were not as obvious or as many. The unknown figure also had wings, but they were narrower and more streamlined. The armor appeared to be a dazzling combination of metallic burgundy, burnt orange and silver. The young human slowly began to realize that this unfamiliar being was a female of Thundercracker's race. They appeared to be deep in conversation, speaking heatedly to one another. Dezba could not quite make out what they were saying; all she heard was deep garbled tones and shrill clicks._

_The female was gesturing wildly at the surrounding area. Her deep, purple optics clearly showed anger. Thundercracker was no less agitated; his crimson optics burned brightly through the fog. Finally, after what seemed like several tense minutes, Thundercracker placed his broad, fearsome hands on the female's shoulders and nodded his head resignedly. His optics had lost their fiery fervor and a reluctant air hung thick around him. But the female robot seemed to be quite the opposite. She leaped into his arms and embraced him firmly around the neck. Her small, thrustered heels dangled a few feet off the ground as she hugged him. He appeared even more uncomfortable but tolerated the gesture nonetheless. She released him and together the two Cybertronians leaped into the air, transformed and blasted from sight. The fog quickly thickened, obscuring her view once again. Suddenly Dezba sensed a presence behind her and felt a light touch on her shoulder. Startled, she whirled around to face her potential attacker. A tall, sinewy man with long, flowing black hair stood before her. Slowly, the girl rose from her crouched position, not once taking her eyes from the stranger. She stared into startling blue-white eyes that seemed totally out of place in his dark, coppery skin. It felt as if every hair on her body was raised and tingling and yet this figure had a strange sense of familiarity._

"_Who…who are you?" she whispered._

_The strange being did not reply for so long that Dezba felt he was either deaf or just ignoring her. His eyes roamed the desolate landscape before finally settling on her hazel ones._

"_You are in great danger, young one."_

"_What?" Dezba shook her head to try and clarify her rampaging thoughts. "What are you talking about? Who the hell are you?" _

_The stranger stepped forward and placed his hands lightly on the sides of her arms. She cringed just a little, but tolerated his touch. As she gazed into those alien eyes she saw a profound sadness that she never thought was possible in a human being. _

"_I am the guardian of your thoughts and one who has suffered a fate very similar to your own. Because of me, you have inherited a great gift, my child, one that many will desire to possess. And as I was the beginning so you shall be the end."_

"_Wait. 'The end'? The end of what? And what gift!?"_

_My child, you are the key to this race's future. Without you, they will surely fade into darkness."_

_Dezba's eyes widened in surprise at this news. A whole alien race's existence rested on her shoulders? Talk about a burden to bear! _

_The strange man removed his hands and began to back away slowly. "These men who hold you will kill you to meet their ends and they will use the most vicious means necessary."_

_The abrupt change in topic yanked Dezba from her revelation. She paled upon hearing that string of news. "But what am I suppose to do? What do they want? How do I fight them!? Wait...come back!" she pleaded as the figure faded back into the mist._

"_A warrior's degree of strength is based upon their degree of focus. Trust in the great Thunderbird, She-Who-Goes-to-War." And like dust upon a breeze he vanished before her eyes._

With a slight jump, Dezba jolted awake. Her face was white and sweating. Another dream. Another image. But it seemed more like a nightmare. She glanced fearfully around her and realized she was still in the SUV—still Miller's hostage.

"Hey! You're not supposed to wake up yet!" a harsh, unfamiliar voice spoke next to her. She struggled to scoot away from this strange man sitting beside her, but at some point while she was unconscious they had tied her hands and feet. The guard grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back to the center of the seat.

"No…please," she mumbled through thickened lips.

"You don't have a choice, baby," the guard replied oily as he injected another dose of sedative into her body.

She struggled against the effects of the tranquilizer. The sage's words still echoed in her mind—_a warrior's degree of strength is based upon their degree of focus. _So, she focused on the one being she knew would come to her aid. As the blackness began to engulf her once more, a near inaudible whisper escaped her lips, "Thundercracker……help…….me."

* * *

Optimus surveyed his soldiers with a solemn optic. He did not relish giving his soldiers this news, but it needed to be done. They had hoped to settle on this tiny planet in peace, had hoped the eons of bloodshed were over, but it appeared old, festering wounds were slow to heal.

"Autobots, I have some grave news," Optimus began, looking at each bot in turn. Ironhide's optics were as cold as ice, Ratchet stood to one side with an interested air, and Bumblebee waited patiently for him to continue, "Our friend and ally Reginald Simmons was murdered earlier this solar cycle. I do not know who committed this atrocity."

Before Optimus could continue, Ironhide interrupted, "Isn't it obvious Otptimus? It had to have been the Decepticons. It would be just like Starscream to target our allies and try to alienate us on this planet." The old warrior's cannons hummed with agitation and his optics glowed like blue flames.

"I must say I'm inclined to disagree with you old friend. Bumblebee had been following Simmons when the crime took place, unfortunately he was unable to help him in time, but the evidence Bumblebee was able to collect before the human law enforcement arrived indicates that the Decepticons were not involved."

"Are you sure, Prime?" Ratchet asked, stepping forward. "We all know how duplicitous Starscream can be." The other Autobots nodded their heads in agreement.

"I am positive, Ratchet. The Decepticons may use underhanded methods to achieve their means, but if they already had the girl in their possession what would be the gain in killing Reginold Simmons? I have known Starscream for many millennia as you have, and you know as well as I do he would not risk exposure or allow his soldiers to risk exposure just to settle a small vendetta. Everything he does, he does with purpose and meaning. Besides, something else absolves the Decepticons from this happening."

"What would that be, Optimus?" Ratchet questioned, even as Ironhide harrumphed loudly.

"The caliber of projectile that killed Simmons does not match any known Decepticon ammunition." That statement caught the attention of the others. "And if you will recall, Simmons seemed very agitated to be here and even said that his agency had become a very volatile organization. It is my suspicion that whoever did not want Agent Simmons to come here and speak with us, caught up with him before we could."

"So what does this mean, Prime? That innocent girl is still in the hands of the Decepticons. How does all this tie into together?" Ratchet asked the burning question that all of them wanted answered.

"I'm not sure of the intricacies, my friend, but I do know that we now have two very dangerous sets of enemies vying for a power that we cannot begin to understand."

At that moment one of the alarms in the main computer began to sound. All the Autobots turned and strode to the viewscreen, curious to see what had triggered the alarm. Bumblebee pressed a button on the console. Almost immediately, a live band of streaming audio filled the Command Center. Bumblebee turned to Optimus. "I've programmed Teletran One to track certain frequencies, such as police and emergency bandwindths." He turned to the computer and dialed in one of the frequencies that caught his attention.

A human voice filtered through the static. "…Cruiser 643, you have no jurisdiction in this area…State your purpose, stand down and reduce your speed…I repeat…"

"Barricade!" Ironhide growled, "Can you get a fix on the direction he's heading?"

"I can try," Bumblebee said, "I can't get a fix on Barricade himself but….I might be able to triangulate his position using the humans' radio broadcasting frequencies." The scout was silent for a few nanoseconds as he tried to get a reading on the rogue police cruiser. "Let's see…I've got it! He's heading south on US Interstate 10." He looked back up to Optimus, confusion evident in his blue optics. "I'm not sure Optimus, but it appears he's heading for Tucson, Arizona."

"I don't get it Optimus? What could be in Tucson that would be of any interest to the Decepticons?" Ratchet asked.

"I don't know Ratchet but we need to find out."

"Then we better leave now," Bumblebee interrupted, "I've just received some civilian sightings of two more vehicles with Barricade, Vipers."

"Sounds like Starscream has received some backup in our downtime," Ironhide growled. "More targets for me to destroy."

"Will we be able to intercept him, Bumblebee?" Optimus queried.

"If we leave now and bend a few speed limits, yes," Bumblebee answered.

Optimus gave his soldiers a firm nod. "All right Autobots. Let's transform and roll out!"

* * *

"Let's GO! Move it, move it, move it people!" an agitated Michael Richards shouted at the scurrying agents below him. He angrily paced the catwalk like a caged lion, wringing his hands nervously. _We should have been out of this facility hours ago!_ He thought to himself.

Michael Richards had been generously rewarded for revealing his wife's mysterious musings to his superior. He had never truly loved her anyway. Theirs was a marriage of convenience, at least to him. He knew the widow had a substantial amount of money given to her by her deceased husband. Back in the day, he and Darren Collins were close friends and had shared many a secret with each other. He had played his part well—the caring friend of the husband whose only wish was to see his friend's family well taken care of--and Anaba Collins had fell for it. However, she did not fall for him as deeply as he had hoped, for the wily widow never revealed the location of the secret endowment. That was the beginning of the seed of bitterness. As the years progressed, the couple grew more and more distant with each other. Anaba spent the majority of her time teaching her daughter the way of their heritage and he devoted his life to Sector Seven. It was life on autopilot, until she came to him with those strange dreams. He knew instantly that they were alien, that they were related to the Iceman and his species. At first, the dreams came sporadically—every three months or so and then they came more often. Quite often to the point Anaba would wake screaming at least once a week. And so, Richards decided to put an end to his wife's nightmares and to also acquire a little retribution for missing out on the family's wealth. Things went well until the pesky brat escaped and got herself captured by the aliens. But now that she had been retaken and was back in appropriate hands he could breathe easy once again.

Miller had radioed him that the girl had been recaptured and it was time to initiate the EVAC Protocol. By theory it should have taken less than twelve hours to break everything down and evacuate the area, but Murphy's Law had other ideas. Now, fourteen hours into the evacuation process only about ¾ of the base had been successfully stripped.

He sighed in frustration. Could nothing go according to plan? He strode down to the end of the catwalk and walked down the staircase. As he stepped off the last step, he accidentally bumped into a worker.

"Watch it!" Richards growled, barely sparing a glance at the employee, but as they passed, the S7 agent could have sworn he saw the man's eyes flash red with anger. Richards paused momentarily, staring at the departing worker's backside. _I must be working too hard,_ he rationalized to himself. He continued down the corridor checking on various worker groups as he went. Oh, how he loved being in charge!

As he passed by the control room, he saw a lone man working quite systematically on one of the mainframes. _Odd, I don't remember having anyone scheduled to work in here at this time, _he thought to himself.

"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing!?" Richards challenged angrily. He walked into the room, arms crossed expectantly over his chest. He wasn't a large man by any means, but being in a power position didn't improve his humility.

The worker looked up with red sunglasses covering his eyes? That's odd. Perhaps it was to cut down on eyestrain. He had dark brown hair and a very stoic air about himself. He stood to his full height, at least a good foot over Richards. The S7 agent took a hesitant step backwards as the worker stared at him unemotionally.

"I am currently ensuring all data has been successfully transferred and terminated from this mainframe," the employee replied. "It _is_ in the EVAC Protocol, sir."

Richards gave the man a thorough stare before making his reply. Eh, at this point it wasn't worth the effort. He was already behind schedule as it was; an inquiry would only slow things further. "Very well. Carry on," he said, turning and leaving the room. Had Richards been a little more astute he might have noticed the tiniest edge of a boot sole peeking from a cubby hole where the consoles met the corner of the wall. As soon as Richard's footsteps faded into the corridor the worker flickered briefly then vanished.

* * *

Richards checked his watch for the umpteenth time that night. _2334. _Time to blow this hell hole. The majority of the base had been stripped, all information transferred and/or destroyed; his job was done. With tired steps, he approached the black SUV that had been waiting patiently to carry him away to his next destination. As he opened the door, Richards felt a slight tremor shake the ground; at the same time klaxons blared to life and red alarm lights turned the base into a living nightmare. WARNING! WARNING! CODE RED! ALL PERSONNEL REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS! THIS IS NOT A DRILL! I REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL!

"Son of a bitch!" he cursed loudly. Grasping the hand-held radio at his side, he punched the button and all but yelled into the device. "Edwards! What the hell is going on!?"

"We're…shkkk….under attack, sir! Decept…bzzzt…ons! We have no…shkkt…weapons! What do we do!? Awe, shit! No!...NO! NOOOOO!…shkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkt." The transmission ended abruptly in static.

Richards stared at the radio, his face paling. They knew. Those stupid metal bastards knew! Now he definitely had to get out of here! Without hesitation the S7 agent leaped into the vehicle commanding the driver to stop for nothing or no one.

More explosions ripped through the base causing a shower of concrete dust. The driver of the black SUV dodged the falling debris with deftness. At this point, alien attacks were old news to him. He had survived Hoover Dam and he didn't doubt he'd survive this. With a casual air that seemed to mock their current situation he asked, "Where to sir?"

"Anywhere but this damn base, you moron!" came the somewhat panicky reply. The driver merely shrugged his shoulders and gunned the accelerator as they reached the end of the tunnel and the beginning of the desert landscape.

Barricade and the twins did not find the human. Either she was here at one point and had already left or the humans bypassed this base altogether. By the time the infiltrators had scoured the base, most of the humans were preparing to leave. Nothing was said, written, typed, or broadcasted about having a human hostage. But the raid was not a total loss; Soundwave successfully hacked and downloaded a host of information from the base's mainframe. Unfortunately for Starscream it created more questions than answered. But now was not the time to dwell on such things. Now was the time to send a warning to those who dared to cross his path. Even though the humans were in the process of abandoning the facility, a message could still be sent—the Decepticons were hot on their afterburners. Starscream's optics glittered like molten pools as he incinerated another vehicle attempting to escape, another human that failed to save his pathetic life. No one could run forever.

For Skywarp and Thundercracker, the base attack came as much needed stress relief. For Skywarp, it was a chance to lash out at those who dared to try and terminate him. In his present state of mind, the black Eagle was feeling far from forgiving. As for Thundercracker, it gave him a chance to clear his processor and concentrate on wreaking havoc.

What was transpiring now was a sick and deadly game of cat and mouse. Panicked Sector Seven agents scurried like frightened mice around and under various airframes. Most of their potent weapons had already been transferred leaving the men with only their personal sidearms and their wits to keep them alive. And not many men were able to keep their wits about them. Horrendous screams of pain echoed in the night as one human after another met a brutal and painful death. Bodies lay strewn across the ground and blood splattered the various aircraft in a sick display of power.

As Thundercracker released another volley of 20mm rounds into a group of escaping workers, a blur of movement tracked across his short range radar. Zeroing in on the image, the blue Seeker saw one lone vehicle making an escape across the desert. He zeroed in even further, catching visuals and biological signatures of the two humans inside. The one piloting the vehicle he did not recognize, but the other…Thundercracker cross-referenced his data with that given to him earlier that night. The second human in the vehicle was without a doubt Michael Richards—Dezba's second paternal unit and the human commander of this facility.

Suddenly, memories flashed across his CPU, images of a human family sitting down enjoying a meal. He instantly recognized Dezba and the older femme, Anaba. But the male figure was more dubious. It appeared to be a happy affair on the surface, but as the Seeker watched with interest it quickly transformed into a scene of terror. Armed humans rushed into the room, pointing their guns at the family. Thundercracker saw Dezba brutally thrown to the ground, a rifle planted into the base of her head. The mother was in a similar position, crying frantically. He realized this was Dezba's memory of that fateful night that started everything. He watched with growing anger as the girl and her mother were handcuffed and shoved into waiting vehicles. Through Dezba's eyes, he recognized the two men he had slaughtered that night; they climbed into her vehicle with malicious intent clear on their faces. With that single, clear snapshot in time Thundercracker knew that Michael Richards was somehow to blame for this entire mess. Things didn't seem logical and yet everything seemed to click into place. Thundercracker wanted answers and this pathetic piece of carbon was going to meet those demands.

A deep, infuriating rage began to build within the indigo Seeker. He was angry. Angry for ever getting involved in this situation, angry for having his past dug up and thrown into his face, and especially angry at having a group of humans take the one being he allowed himself to show the slightest tendril of mercy. Igniting his afterburners, he streaked across the sky like a blue bullet, a reverberating clap of thunder resonating in his wake. His sudden departure from the slaughter field did not go unnoticed; Skywarp saw his wingmate streak away from the graveyard. Narrowing his optics suspiciously, the black and violet jet decided to follow suit.

Richards could hear the scream of jet engines as well as those screams of former comrades. They melded together in a psychotic symphony of horror and agony. He closed his eyes to try and ignore the ghastly sounds of the dying and to keep from retching. As his fingers dug into the upholstery, Richards heard then felt a faint rattling. It began to increase steadily in volume as well as vibration. A cold sweat began to break onto his forehead. Richards chewed his lips with nervousness. He glanced out the windows trying to see the source of the noise. Then as if a switch had been flipped, all the noise and vibrations ceased.

As Richards turned to look out the rear window, a deafening explosion shattered all the windows of the vehicle. Glass shards bombarded the men in the SUV, cutting any and all exposed skin. The SUV swerved dangerously to the right, the momentum of the vehicle pushing it up on two wheels. The vehicle teetered precariously before toppling over on its side and into a barrel roll. The SUV came to rest on its top in a shower of dirt and pebbles. The whole accident happened in less than five seconds.

"My God! What the hell just happened!?" Richards yelled emphatically, trying his best to disentangle himself from the seatbelt as he hung upside down. Blood dripped in steady rivulets from the various lacerations on his face and throat. The only answer he received from the driver was a low moan. He was conscious, but barely.

"SON OF A BITCH! WHY WON'T THIS THING UNFASTEN!?" Richards cursed loudly as he fumbled with the belt. At that moment, the ground trembled as if a great weight had fallen from the sky. The human froze. More sweat and blood began to mix and drip to the roof of the vehicle. More tremors. Rhythmic. Regular. Powerful. Just. Like. Giant. Footsteps. _Oh, God._

Thundercracker could smell the fear, blood and sweat emanating from the wreckage. It was a noxious fragrance that stimulated the very primal essence deep within his spark core. It aroused terrible feelings of violence that both excited him and repulsed him. But at the moment his immediate desire for revenge overrode any underlying conscience; his Decepticon programming literally cried for bloodlust fulfillment. He barely even noticed Skywarp land a few yards away. Stepping close to the vehicle, the winged Decepticon reached down and grasped the overturned SUV in one massive hand. His claws punctured the pathetically thin sheet metal like needles through tissue paper.

Inside Richards screamed like a man possessed. Several large talons? pierced through the sheet metal of the SUV. He felt a wave of vertigo wash over his body as his aggressor picked the vehicle off the desert floor and raised it to an unfathomable height. Blood rushed to his head as he struggled to grasp onto this nightmarish reality.

With a horrible shriek, the SUV was flipped right side up. Then, quite abruptly the crumpled remains of the roof were peeled back like the lid from a sardine can. For the first time in his life, Michael Richards, sincerely believed he was staring at the face of Death himself. Red orbs that glowed like cherry coals glared down upon him and the driver, bathing them in an unholy light.

With its freehand, the metallic monster reached in and plucked the driver from his seat. Richards heard a series of undulated tones and garbled clicks. A shadow of movement drew Richards' attention away from the being that held him and to a point just over its wing. Another one. This one black with shades of purple and every bit as terrifying. The dark blue monstrosity tossed the driver to its accomplice as easily as a child tosses a ragdoll. It then focused its attention back on the sole occupant of the tattered SUV.

"Here Warp. Have some fun," Thundercracker growled in Cybertronian, "_This one is mine!"_ He hooked one talon under the shirt of the petrified human and lifted him up from the wreckage. Thundercracker then casually rolled his hand to drop the SUV. It landed with a resounding crash at the Seeker's feet. To terrify his hostage further, the blue Decepticon raised one metal foot and ground the vehicle into the dust, creating terrible shrieks as metal ground against metal.

"Please! Let me go! I haven't done _anything!_ Please don't kill me!" Richards begged as he dangled by his shirt front a good 30 feet from the ground.

A deep, metallic chuckle reverberated in the air around him. "Pathetic weakling," a deep, baritone voice spoke in English from the darkness, "Don't deceive me. I know you know where the human child has been taken. Tell me and I'll make your death quick and painless…unlike your friend over there." As if on cue, a gut-wrenching cry echoed through the darkness followed by a very evil metallic laugh.

If Richards was pale before, he was translucent now. "Dezba?" he squeaked. "S-She's not here. I don't know where s-she is," he stuttered. The claw gave a sudden jerk which in turn stressed the fabric holding the human aloft. The sound of ripping cloth was loud on the chill desert air. Richards mindlessly grasped onto the claw that held him, desperately trying to keep from falling to his death.

"OK! OK! I'll tell you! Please, in the name all that's holy, please don't drop me!" he wailed. A wicked grin parted Thundercracker's features.

"That's more like it," he sneered. "Speak quickly, fleshling, for my patience is growing thin."

"OK, OK. She's been taken to COBRA! That's all I know! I swear!"

"Whose COBRA!? And what do they want with her? SPEAK FLEASHBAG!" Thundercracker wrapped his digits around the squirming human and held him in an ever pressure-increasing grip.

"You're…choking…me…"

"That's kind of the point," The jet rumbled.

"All I know is…she has some sort of mind power. It's rumored to be connected with the Cube that was discovered here on Earth. They want to try and harness that power. T-that's all I know. P-please! Can you put me down n-now?" Richards pleaded, eyeing the ground with dread.

Instead of feeling the monster's grip loosen as he hoped, it tightened to near rib-cracking intensity. Richards howled in pain. "I told you all I k-know! Please SPARE ME!"

"I'm not finished with you yet. Why did you betray your family unit, Michael Richards? What benefit did you glean from their suffering?"

The question caught the agent totally off-guard. "How d-did _you _know…" He instantly clamped his mouth shut when he saw the red orbs glow more intensely. "Wait! I didn't say that!"

"Oh, yes, you did," Thundercracker chuckled evilly. He brought Richards closer to his face, so close in fact, that the horrified human could see his reflection in those brilliant hellfire optics. "Between the two of us, Richards," the mighty Decepticon rasped, "you just confirmed every suspicion I ever had of you. They've said that us Decepticons are the lowest pieces of slag the universe has ever seen…now, I'm not too sure." He paused to allow his words to sink into the human's mind. He could feel this grown man quaking in his hand at every word; it was quite pathetic really.

"Now then, there is one last thing I want to share with you, Richards, before I take pleasure in ripping you limb from puny limb." The human's mouth gaped and his struggles increased.

"I want you to know that _I _was the one that found Dezba that night in the desert and _I _will be the one who will take retribution on the pathetic piece of _slag _that left her to _die_."

Thundercracker took great pleasure in the look of sheer terror and shock that mingled across the features of his captive. But nothing compared to the absolute delight he took in listening to Richards' screams of agony.

When the bloody ritual had finished, Thundercracker discarded the body to be consumed by the carrion-eaters of the planet. He strode over to where the others had finished destroying the last remnants of the Boneyard and its survivors.

"Well done, Thundercracker," Starscream greeted, mock admiration dripping in his voice, "I didn't think you still had it in you."

"Depends on the circumstances," came the rumbling reply. He examined the bloody sheen that was left on his claws. It left him feeling satisfied yet empty at the same time. Suddenly, Soundwave's monotone cut into their conversation.

"Warning: Autobots approaching."

All the Decepticons went rigid instantly, the hum of weapons powering up sounded similar to a swarm of angry African bees. "What is their proximity and how many are there?" Starscream demanded.

"Estimated Arrival Time: 10 breems. Number of Autobots enroute: four," Soundwave responded.

"We will wait," Starscream murmured. "Even with Prime, the odds are still heavily in our favor." Anticipation hung in the air as thick as a Louisiana fog. This would be their first meeting with the Autobots since Mission City and the sores of their losses still stung like over-energized electric cables. Servos squealed in protest as hands clenched and unclenched. Metal armor gleamed under the dim moonlight. Blood shined as it reflected light from the fires that still burned across the landscape. They were ready. The Boneyard…Hah! That was little more than a warm-up exercise for the battle-lusting Cons.

Finally, four sets of headlights pierced the darkness of the desert night. The Deceptions all stood in a line as if to try and bar the Autobots from proceeding any further. Their weapons glowed with an angry light as their ancient enemies drew closer. Starscream saw Runabout and Runamuck raise their weapons as if to fire. He gestured sharply for them to cease and desist. "No! Let them come," he growled warningly, his unspoken threat clear in the night air. The twins grumbled to themselves, but obeyed the order.

Optimus and his soldiers stopped at least 100 feet from the Decepticons. They all transformed simultaneously, weapons charged and ready. The hostility between the two factions was nearly palpable. The Autobots had not expected to confront this many Decepticons and they were more than a little tense in the circuits. Optimus surveyed the wreckage with saddened optics, but when he spoke his voice shielded any and all of the sadness that he felt. "Starscream, why are you here and why have you and your Decepticons caused such destruction?" he asked as he stepped forward.

Starscream's optics narrowed dangerously as he replied, "Stay out of this Prime. This fight does not concern you or any of your Autobot scum."

From the corner of his optic, Optimus saw Ironhide raise one powerful cannon. "Stand down, Ironhide!"

"But Optimus…!"

"I will not repeat that order again, friend." Optimus turned back to Starscream. "If you are referring to Sector Seven, Starscream, then I am inclined to disagree with you."

Starscream crossed his arms over his cockpit and hissed, "Why is that Prime? I thought you were allies with the humans."

"Unfortunately, not all humans can be regarded as allies, Starscream and Sector Seven has appeared to have fallen under that category. We've received some intel that Sector Seven is acting covertly without the US government's authorization and may become a threat to _all _Cybertronians."

Starscream grinned wickedly. "See Prime? This is exactly why all of humankind should be viewed as a threat. You never know exactly who to trust, do you?"

"Like you would know anything about _trust, _you flying scrapheap!" Ironhide sneered.

Starscream hissed angrily. "I would tread carefully if I were you, _Autobot! _We still have you outnumbered and all it would take is just one small signal from _me_ for _them_," he motioned to the other Decepticons, "to tear you to pieces." The other Cons shifted eagerly as if to emphasize their leader's words.

Optimus intervened before the dispute could escalate. "We did not come here to fight you, Starscream. But we do want answers. We know you have a human girl hostage and we also know that Sector Seven knows of her existence and powers to a degree. Now, why are you here and where is the girl?"

"I've told you once Optimus! That is none of your concern! Although I will tell you this," he paused and swept his arm over the broad expanse of burning husks and strewn bodies, "the destruction you see before you now will be but a dying ember compared to devastation I will unleash unless these pathetic protoforms do not heed my warning. As for the human, she belongs…"

"To me," Thundercracker interrupted his voice low and deadly. Starscream gave him a scathing glare, but quickly focused again on Prime.

"Humans are not property to be claimed, Decepticon," Ratchet spoke for the first time since the meeting.

"Just try and stop me, Autobrat!" the dark blue jet challenged fiercely.

Starscream raised his arm to block his wingmate from advancing on the Hummer. At the same time, Optimus intervened once again.

"So the girl _is _no longer with you," he stated quietly.

Starscream glowered at the Autobot commander. His optics narrowed into fiery slits. "_No she isn't!" _he hissed. "And you will be well advised to stay out of this, Optimus!"

Suddenly, Thundercracker went rigid; his optics widened and his body straightened as if he had been electrified. The warrior's sudden change caught everyone's attention and only served to escalate the tension.

_Dezba!?_

"_Thundercracker…help…me."_

He whirled to face Starscream, blue-black wings slicing into the air, optics burning like hell's flames. "I know where she is," he hissed.

Starscream never took his gaze from Optimus's as he gave his command. "Decepticons! Fall back!" Almost instantly the Decepticons took a few steps back then transformed into their alt modes and withdrew from the Boneyard, leaving four stunned Autobots in their wake.

"What just happened Prime? Did we not just confront the Decepticons, totally outnumbered, and never fired a shot at one other?" Ratchet asked bemusedly.

"Yes, Ratchet, I believe that would be an accurate observation," Prime answered as he watched taillights and afterburners get smaller. "Bumblebee. Were you able to hear what Thundercracker was saying?"

"Yes, Optimus, as a matter of fact I did. He said that he knew where 'she' was. Was he referring to the girl?"

"Yes, I believe he was. Although I don't know how; it only adds to this conundrum. I want you to try and follow them, Bumblebee, but keep a respectable distance. I don't want to spook Starscream any more than necessary and with Soundwave here, you will need to be extra cautious."


	17. The Discovery of Vector Sigma

**A/N: Boy did this chapter take a while to write! Now please allow me to brief you guys before we get in too deep. This chapter does have some graphic violence and torture—you have been warned! Also, for all intents and purposes, I have kept Frenzy alive and based him on his G1 form, mainly because I'm the author and I can do that! XD! A lot will happen in this chapter, so once the ball starts rolling try to keep up. Any hazy issues will be clarified in the next couple of chapters. Things have just taken a drastic twist for better or for worse! Please enjoy!**

**Chapter 17: The Discovery of Vector Sigma**

_**During the events of the Boneyard…**_

The first thing that Dezba noticed was how chilly the air felt. It hugged her skin in an icy embrace and sent tiny shivers crawling across her dark-skinned body. The young woman hugged her knees to her chest in an effort to stem the goosebumps rising across her frame. Her right shoulder ached in protest at the movement; she slid her left hand over the sleeve, pulling the fabric up and away to reveal the cause of the painful throbbing. A large, angry bruise darkened the top of her arm, no doubt the result of the syringe used to keep her sedated. Speaking of which…

_Where am I?_ shethought to herself. Her hazel eyes darted around the room trying to take in every detail to garner any clues. The room was a flat gun-metal grey color and appeared to have metal walls. The floor was slick concrete which helped to explain why her body felt so chilled. She seemed to be positioned in the room's far left corner; in the center stood a small table with two chairs. On the table sat a small pitcher of water as well as a glass. Her body was lying parallel to what appeared to be a large mirror which ran the length of the room. Directly across from her head, a very plain metal door provided the only entrance/exit to the room. By all appearances it seemed she was being held in some sort of interrogation room, at least it looked that way according to all the Law & Order episodes she used to watch with her mother.

The chills were slowly subsiding and Dezba gingerly pushed herself up onto her hands and knees. Using the wall as a brace she wobbly stood to her feet. The room began to spin rapidly and before she could stop herself she began a fit of dry heaving. At that time, the door creaked open and a tall figure stepped through the opening. Dezba slowly raised her head; tangled locks of raven-colored hair stuck to her brow as sweat slowly dripped from her cheekbones. She drew an arm across her mouth to wipe away some spittle and glared hatefully at the man who had ruined her life.

"Good to see you're finally awake," Miller said amiably, tossing a manila folder onto the table and closing the door behind him. His icy blue eyes regarded her hunched form with amusement. "You may call me Miller, if you wish."

Dezba placed her hands on her knees in an effort to regain her equilibrium and quell her tumultuous stomach. The fact that she had barely eaten in the past 48 hours did not speak well for her health. She felt weak and light-headed and struggled to focus on Miller's hazy form.

"What the hell do you want, asshole?" she asked, voice filled with venom.

"Tsk. Tsk. Such language is unbecoming of a fine young lady such as yourself," Miller scolded lightly. His eyes flashed with arrogance and a sickening leer split his lips. He had finally succeeded in capturing the girl from the Decepticons and he wanted to savor every minute of this victory.

"As if you would know how to treat a lady," she retorted. "Tell me something, do you drug every woman you meet or only the ones you want _killed?_"

Miller shook his head, the smile never fading. "I admit that we did get off on the wrong foot, my dear. A…uh…miscommunication in the chain of command, I assure you. Would you please accept my humble apologies on behalf of Sector Seven?" he asked, a honeyed tone in his voice. He stepped close to one of the chairs and sat down, motioning for Dezba to do likewise.

She ignored his friendly gesture and spat, "Do I look stupid to you!? You had my stepfather arrested, you had my _mother _arrested and probably _murdered_. Oh, and _you_ also ordered two sleazebags to rape and kill me, and you expect me to _forgive_ you!? Go. To. Hell!" Dezba's breath was coming in quick gasps now that her tirade was just beginning. She placed one hand against the wall to steady herself. Anger filled her body with new vitality, but she still felt a little on the weak side.

Instantly, "Miller" dropped his nice-guy façade. His face contorted with anger and his blue eyes seethed like a boiling kettle. He leaped to his feet, slamming the chair to the ground. In less than two strides he was on top of the girl, grabbing her harshly by the front of her shirt. With his left hand he backhanded her viciously causing her head to snap to one side. An angry welt sprang across her cheek.

To her credit, Dezba did not even gasp. Her anger was too strong. She glared scornfully into Miller's face; she would not give this man the satisfaction of seeing her fearful a third time. Quite unexpectedly, she spat in Miller's face!

With an angry roar, the Sector Seven agent threw the girl to ground and wiped his face. Dezba hit the concrete on her bad arm, the barely-knitted bone sending sharp, spiking pains of protest through her body. Before she could regain her footing on her own, she felt Miller clasp onto shoulder and haul her to her feet. He slammed her into a chair, nearly toppling her in the process, before picking his own chair up off the floor and sat facing her. Then, quite abruptly, his angry scowl quickly changed into a manic laugh, an evil spine-shivering laugh that was supposed to belong on the silver-screen, not real life.

As Dezba listened to Miller's laughter, she tried to focus her thoughts on Thundercracker. She knew he was searching for her; she had felt his presence briefly when she had woken in the SUV. _"Thundercracker, where are you?!"_ she thought desperately as she warily watched Miller.

"_We're coming," _his reply came clipped and brief.

She could feel a mixture of emotions permeate their link—anger and worry being the strongest. However, before she could continue her internal conversation, Miller drew her concentration once again. He stood up and placed his hands flat on the table and leaned in close towards her. His handsome face was twisted into a sinister sneer as he stared into her hazel depths.

"You've got guts, kid, I'll give you that, but first let's start this conversation over, shall we?" he said softly. "Dezba, do you even know why you and your family were arrested?"

The abrupt change in tactics threw her off-guard. Cautiously she answered the question. "No."

"Do you know why the Decepticons have kept you alive while in their keep?"

Her face hardened into a scowl. This jerk couldn't possibly know what she went through while with the Decepticons. "What are you talking about?" she said defensively, trying to steer the conversation away from anything having to do with her aforementioned keepers.

"You know, I'm really surprised your mother never told you her little secret before she died. Oh, well. Can't change the past now, can we?" He began to walk around the room, slowly circling his prisoner like a shark circling a wounded fish.

"My mother has never kept anything from me," Dezba replied heatedly.

"Oh, but she has my dear, she has," he whispered in her ear as he walked past. He stopped at the head of the table once again and leveled her with a firm stare. "You see, Anaba Richards possessed a gift, Dezba, a gift that I strongly feel has been passed onto you."

The raven-haired girl paled upon hearing that last statement, the mysterious human figure's words echoing in her brain. _You have a great gift, She-Who-Goes-To-War. _Her pallid features did not go unnoticed by Miller.

"Your mother began having strange, recurring dreams of a metallic planet--and on this planet she saw many different alien beings, very similar to those here on Earth. For months the dreams continued, lasting longer and growing more realistic." He paused briefly before continuing, gauging Dezba's reaction to what he had said so far—the results pleased him. The girl merely stared at him blankly, her face a pasty white. "Then one night, your mother had a dream so realistic, it woke her from her sleep. Now in this dream, she saw the strange metal planet that I assume is where our alien friends are from, but this image stood out to her above all others mainly because something spoke to her. In all her previous dreams, all she saw were images, but this…this was totally different. I believe she described it as a very bright ball of bluish-light. But that wasn't necessarily what frightened your mother; it was what that glowing orb _said_ as to what frightened your mother so." He paused once again and strode about the room, hands clasped behind his back. "You see Dezba, in your mother's dream, the glowing orb declared itself as the rejuvenator of its planet—the ultimate source of life on that planet. You've heard of the AllSpark?" he asked, glancing sharply in her direction.

Dezba's thoughts wheeled back to one of her first deep conversations with Thundercracker. He had told her a little of their war and the power struggle for the AllSpark. She nodded her head feebly.

His grin widened. "Good. Well, as it turns out in your mother's dream, the AllSpark was _not _the ultimate source of life on Cybertron."

Dezba's face furrowed in confusion. "Why are you telling me all this? How do you know all this?"

"Patience my dear, patience," he said, touching her lightly on the shoulder. In response, she jerked away forcefully. "As I was saying, the AllSpark was in fact, not the ultimate source of life for our alien friends. There is another more powerful force that the inhabitants of that world have long forgotten—and the name of that source is Vector Sigma."

"Now then, Vector Sigma is the true-blue original life spring for our Autobot and Decepticon friends. When the AllSpark was destroyed here on Earth, it reawakened Vector Sigma. I know this because your mother's dreams correspond within a period of time after the AllSpark's destruction and even more importantly, it told your mother this. It also told your mother of how the AllSpark was created, its purpose for creation, yatta, yatta, etcetera, etcetera. I didn't concern myself with knowing those pathetic details; I found them rather irrelevant. Anyways, as it turns out my dear Dezba, your mother was the roadmap for finding Vector Sigma. It's a shame she casted her life away so carelessly. I hope you will not make that same mistake."

Miller stopped his pacing once more to come and stand before Dezba again. He placed his hands palms down on the table and glared into Dezba's eyes. He was a ticking time bomb waiting for detonation. Dezba could see the lust for power in his eyes. They were cold, merciless and had just a hint of desperation laced within their depths. In many ways, she would have preferred a stare-down with Starscream than face Miller as he was now. A desperate man was a dangerous man.

Within her mind, things were quickly falling into place. Her dreams, her hidden knowledge of the Cybertronian dialect…it was slowly beginning to make sense now. If Miller was hinting at what she thought he was then her situation just took a turn for the worse. More words echoed from her strange mental visitor. _You are the key to this race's future._

"So you believe I have my mother's capabilities then?" she questioned directly. She crossed her arms over her chest to show her "skepticism."

"Oh, I not only think, girl, I _know,"_ Miller answered with a sneer. "My organization has done a little digging into your history and come to find out," he paused for emphasis, "several of your family members have been committed to asylums for their erratic mental images. Granted, none of them mentioned Vector Sigma, but they still bore witness to several alien events. These dreams have been passed down directly through your mother's lineage and guess what," he smiled sinisterly, inches from her face, "_you're next in line,"_ he whispered.

Dezba leaned back and turned her head in an attempt to put some space between her and Miller. So now she knew. The Decepticons had sensed some sort of valuable power within her and had kept her alive in order to try to figure out what it was. Unfortunately, it seemed as if this creep and his goons had figured it out first. The good news was she didn't think this asshole had a clue about her mind link with a certain Decepticon and that was definitely to her advantage. "So what? How can you be so sure? And why should I care about this Vector Sigma?"

"Because, Dezba Collins, if my theory is correct and I'm fairly certain it is, you are going to be the one to lead us to Vector Sigma. We witnessed the raw power behind the AllSpark; imagine just how much more powerful the original source will be! And those ignorant walking garbage heaps don't even know it's there!"

"You're insane! We can barely make it to the moon and back, much less a frickin' planet who knows how many light years away. There's no way you can do it and even if you could I will follow my mother to the grave before I lift a finger to help you," she hissed.

He moved so quickly she never had a chance to react. Another backhand blow whipped across her face, sending her sailing out of the chair. She slid across the concrete and stopped against the far wall. Miller was upon her like hawk; he lifted her up by her hair then slammed her against the wall, his hand increasing its vice-like grip across her throat. She gargled and gasped in vain efforts to breathe; her fists beat upon his chest and arms uselessly. The fact was she was just too weak to fight back.

"You listen to me, you little _bitch_! From now on, you will do exactly as I say. I know that somewhere deep down in that pathetic mind of yours you know the way to Vector Sigma and if I have to beat you to within an inch of your life to get your cooperation, so be it," Miller growled.

With that he threw the girl to the floor and quickly followed up with a kick to the ribs. It was the desert nightmare all over again. The memories of that horrible night flashed through her mind with each painful hit and brutal kick. When Miller was certain she couldn't lift a finger to fight back, he pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket and clasped her hands behind her back. He took a second set of cuffs and clasped her feet together. Satisfied with his handiwork, he sneered down upon the girl before turning and leaving the room.

Dezba did not know how long he was gone, nor did she really care. Her body screamed in agony and she was quite certain her ribs and her arm were re-broken. Dark, purple bruises were flowering across her face, arms and legs. The only thing that wasn't marred was her will to defy Miller.

Presently, he returned and what he carried in hand was not a welcoming sight. In his arms the S7 agent held a portable butane torch as well as a container of salt. She cringed inwardly—he was planning on torturing her.

"Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice."

"Damn you!"

Miller shrugged his shoulders. "Have it your way." With a firm yank he ripped her shirt off, exposing her stomach, bruised ribs and bare chest. He fired up the torch and began to bring it near to her flesh.

Dezba bit her lip in anticipation for the pain, but when it came all she could do was scream in agony. The sound of sizzling skin and the smell of burning flesh permeated the air. Nausea and intense pain overwhelmed her mind. The session lasted 30 grueling minutes. With each hot blast of the torch, Miller rubbed salt into the burn. He would then ask if she was willing to cooperate. Each time he received the same answer—a variation on "go to hell", "damn you", or "f*** you." Suddenly, Miller's cell phone beeped shrilly, temporarily competing with the girl's screams. He cut the torch off angrily and yanked to the phone to his ear.

"What!?" he barked. There was a brief period of silence in which Miller's countenance changed from furious to one of pure shock.

"I'll be there immediately!" He snapped the phone closed and glared back down on the girl. He looked almost disappointed to stop his carnal act. "I'm going to let you lay here and think about your options. When I return, your mind had better been changed!" Seeing as how she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, Miller uncuffed his prisoner and stormed out the door. Dezba continued to lie on the floor, sobbing in pain. Several dozen second and third degree burns dotted her body. The blackened holes seeped small streamlets of blood that crisscrossed her body like tiny red ribbons. They began to pool on the floor next her, mingling with tears of hurt and fear. Every movement, every breath sent rivers of pain coursing through her body. Take that coupled with the beating received earlier and it was a wonder how the girl was still conscious. She hurt almost as badly as when Soundwave wracked her mind, but at least Thundercracker had been able to help her overcome that ordeal; she didn't know if he would be able to help this time.

Then as if her thoughts had reached out to him, his deep, rumbling voice filled her head.

"_Dezba, are you still functional?! What in the Pit just happened?! I feel as if someone has taken a plasma torch to my circuits!"_

He could feel her pain as well? That was a new development. "_I'm…fine for now," _she replied weakly. _"The asshole who tried to kill me…he torched me…I don't know…if I can…"_

Thundercracker quickly interjected. _"We're almost to your location. I can sense your presence getting stronger. You will make it, human!"_ His last phrase almost sounded more like a command than encouragement. _"I'm going to try something."_

She barely acknowledged his words. Unconsciousness was slowly creeping into her mind like a black, roiling fog covering a bayou. As she was about to let go of the last tendrils of awareness, Dezba began to feel a warm, tingling sensation flow through her. It slowly began to increase in intensity, raising her awareness and even dulling the intense pain to more tolerable levels. It almost felt like coming in from a cold day outside and then sitting by the fireplace to warm up. "_What's happening to me?"_ she asked mentally.

"_Since we can share emotions and thoughts, I thought it would be worth a try to see if we could share each other's strength as well. It looks as if it's working."_

"_But won't that…weaken you?"_

"_I can feel the difference, but it is marginal. My strength should help you to escape once we arrive."_

"_When will that…be?"_

"_In less than one cycle—less than an hour by your standards. Be prepared to flee quickly. Whoever put you through this much pain will experience it tenfold when I get my claws on them!"_

"_But I'm locked in an interrogation room. I can't get out on my own," _she objected.

"_We will have a plan in place. Just be ready." _With that the link faded out. She could still feel his strength and energy coursing through her body. By this time, it had dulled the painful burns to a small throb. It gave her a warm tingling feeling just like after drinking a shot of whiskey or a glass of rum. She felt revitalized, much stronger than before she had been beaten. Although this new influx of vitality was temporary, she was deeply thankful for the reprieve and for his presence. Savoring the lull in the pain, Dezba waited patiently for Thundercracker's arrival; her breaths slow and deep. One cheek rested against the cool, smooth surface of the concrete floor, dark locks of hair covered the rest of her face. Her sobs had eased to gentle hiccups. Even as her fresh new wounds burned her physically on the outside, nothing could compare to the deep, burning fire searing her heart as she thought of Thundercracker's words of revenge. Before, she had never been a person to wish ill on anyone, but after this? For the first time she could recall she absolutely _hated _another human being and she wished with all her heart that the massive Decepticon would follow through on his threat and that she could be there to witness the spectacle.

* * *

_**Present time…**_

Thundercracker and the other Decepticons were burning rubber and igniting afterburners, making a beeline straight for Miller's base of operations. While enroute, Starscream had tried to give the blue jet the ninth degree about revealing too much information to the Autobots, but the dusty-colored Raptor would have had better success reprimanding a brick wall. Starscream's reprimand went in one audio and straight out the other. When he realized that the indigo flyer hadn't even acknowledged a word he had said thus far, he snarled loudly in irritation and thumped the blue jet's wingtip with his own.

"What's it going to take for me to get through that thick, titanium helm of yours!?" he cried in exasperation.

Thundercracker did not respond. He was totally focused on Dezba's mental signature. It was the same force that had drawn him to her prison cell that first night they had discovered the mental connection. At this point in time his only concern was to find her, get her back into Decepticon custody and demolish anything or anyone that got in his way. But first, they needed to develop a strategy for when they did find her.

"We need to develop a plan of action for when we get there," he announced suddenly, catching Starscream by surprise.

The Decepticon leader quickly recovered, however, and demanded, "Did you not listen to word I just said?!"

"No, sure didn't," Thundercracker replied matter-of-factly.

Starscream growled loudly at his second's lack of respect. Then again it was nothing new to him; he had known Thundercracker since the very beginning. When he had been inducted into the Decepticon ranks, the burly flyer became quite well-renowned for his belligerence towards other Cons as well as superiors. It was one reason why Megatron had kept the Seeker close and at that time, put him under Starscream's command. Megatron had figured that at the most, both Starscream and Thundercracker would kill each other vying for superiority, or at the very least Starscream would be preoccupied keeping the blue jet in line. But as it turned out, neither occurred—reason being: Skywarp. Skywarp was assigned to Starscream's command to complete the trine a few hundred orns after Thundercracker came into the picture. Almost instantaneously the energetic teleport took it upon himself to befriend the blue Seeker. Starscream felt that Skywarp's efforts to socialize with TC came more from the fact that the teleport derived great pleasure in annoying the blue flyer, than it being any true desire to be "friends." But regardless of the method, the outcome had surprising results. Eventually, Skywarp broke through the indigo mech's social defenses and eased him into a more manageable frame of mind; millennia of annoying TC until his circuits fritzed had finally paid off. As a result and under Starscream's firm leadership, the trio became the deadliest aerial force Cybertron had ever seen. Over those many eons Starscream had come to respect Thundercracker's obstinate and abrasive ways, despite his blue subordinate's dark past and questionable loyalties. Quite often it was easier to just let the blue jet have his way or talk to Skywarp to have him calm him down. Since Thundercracker was such a highly aggressive, yet brooding mech, it had taken Starscream by surprise that the cobalt flyer had taken such a protective role over the human girl even with their unique link, but once again given TC's history, it could be considered a logical action.

Before Starscream could mull over anymore thoughts, Thundercracker's voice loudly interrupted. "So what's the plan for when we find these earth germs?"

'_Speak of the devil' as the humans would say, _Starscream thought sourly. "Let's see," Starscream wondered out loud, "According to Soundwave's data that he so 'eloquently' collected for us, the human by the name of Miller is located in Denver at this time. Now, this also corresponds with your tracking signal, am I correct?"

"Yes."

"It's an exceptionally heavy populated area; I don't want to draw attention to ourselves and chances are these humans know or will soon know of our arrival. However, they seem to have not been able to detect our holograms."

"Are you planning another covert operation, Screamer?"Thundercracker asked, doubt tingeing his voice.

"Perhaps. And who better to aide us in this field than Soundwave and his minions? Unless you have better idea. We were lucky in Arizona. We caught Sector Seven off guard and in preparations of fleeing. I don't think we'll be as lucky again." Starscream replied.

Thundercracker pondered over Starscream's words. His wingmate was right. They had been lucky, but they had also been thrown off track. The Boneyard was _a base_ of operations for S7; it wasn't _the main base_ they had hoped to destroy in one fell swoop. What would make Denver any different? At least this time he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dezba was there. The bond between them had grown in intensity and strength. He could now sense her from great distances as well as sense any degree of emotion she was experiencing. He vaguely wondered what had triggered the bond to increase, but quickly decided that matter could be pondered at a later date. Twice now he had contacted her, once to assure her of their arrival and again when a blinding heat seemed to have ripped through his inner circuits. It hadn't been enough to make him loose control of his flight path, but it had been painful enough to make him growl and snarl in agitation. He was quickly growing tired of Starscream's desire to attack from the shadows, his darker, inner demons screamed to be unleashed in a flurry of vengeance, but his logic processors indicated that secrecy was the best way to get ahead of these meatsacks.

"Fine. Just so long as I am the one that gets the privilege of meeting Sector Seven Agent Miller," Thundercracker conceded, rumbling his thrusters angrily as he mentioned Miller's name.

Starscream chuckled at his trinemate's eagerness for destruction; perhaps he wasn't slipping as much as he previously thought. _"Attention all Decepticons!"_ he announced over all the com links and very quickly all the other Cons were briefed on the next stage of attack.

* * *

Miller rushed into the command center looking more than a little flustered. "Where are they!?" he demanded to the room. Several dozen technicians were busily pecking away at their keyboards, while others rushed hastily about to and fro one consol to another. One tech lifted his earphones and approached the angry Sector Seven SIC.

"They're less than one half hour from our location, sir," the sandy-haired tech ventured cautiously.

"How many?" Miller barked as he hastily turned to study a projectable map of Denver and her surrounding countryside. Four red blips were moving much more quickly than the three others farther south. The four must be the aerial-based NBEs.

"Seven, sir," the tech confirmed as he re-seated himself at his computer at the front of the darkened room. "Wait! I lost them! They…they…they just disappeared off my screen!"

"What!?" Miller furiously turned and regarded the projector image again. Sure enough, the seven red dots that had been there seconds prior were no longer seen. How in the hell…

"Agent Miller, sir! I've just received intel that Agent Richards has been killed and the Boneyard completely destroyed!" another voice called over the din.

A ripple of nervous voices followed that announcement and the level of anxiety within the command center seemed to palpably rise.

"Enough!" Miller shouted angrily. "I want security around this building doubled immediately! Sheridan, take your staff and prepare the fleet for a quick departure! Sanderson! You and I will fetch the brat! Everyone else, pack it down and execute Code Red procedures. Now!"

Instantly, the small command center burst into a flurry of activity. Papers rustled and keys clicked at a maddening pace as all the underlings struggled to shutdown their systems and erase all relevant data. There was not much time.

Another man quickly joined Miller at the front of the command center. Miller gave the man a quick, condescending once-over then said, "Let's go!"

Swiftly both men navigated the winding office-like corridors of the S7 Denver base, dodging other agents who were anxious to make a speedy escape. Finally, the two men arrived at a solid steel door that comprised one of several interrogation rooms of the base. With deft accuracy, Miller punched in the code to open the door and slammed it open, Sanderson following on his heels. The young woman appeared to have not moved at all since Miller had left some time earlier. Her head was buried in her arms and dried, crimson patches of blood dotted the grey concrete around her body. She didn't so much as flinch at their presence—in fact, she appeared to be unconscious. _Good. It'll make this job so much easier,_ Miller mused to himself. As Miller stepped closer and prepared to yank the girl up by her shoulder, he was caught totally by surprise in the flurry of action that ensued. With the speed of a striking viper, Dezba lashed her left arm out and to the side, catching Miller firmly in the ankle and sweeping the agent off his feet. He landed with a painful grunt on his side, an angry animal-like cry escaping his lips as he tried to lunge for the struggling girl.

Dezba kicked madly at Miller's face, landing a few solid blows to the man's handsome features. Bright flecks of scarlet sprayed the air as she heard a satisfying _crunch _when her right heel connected firmly with Miller's chiseled nose. He screamed in pain and held his bleeding face with both hands, trying to stem the flow. She crab-walked as fast as she could away from the furious operative and attempted to climb to her feet. The fresh burns across her chest and torso were still raw and angry, but due in part to Thundercracker's energy, she was able to ignore the pain and concentrate on making her escape. The klaxons blaring in the hallway had alerted her that something was definitely wrong, so she planned accordingly. However, she hadn't counted on a second agent being present and blocking her attempted getaway. She glared at Sanderson with bright, greenish eyes, tendrils of blood-matted hair adding to her wild and desperate air.

"For one who has been through so much, you show an extraordinary amount of resolve," the stranger said smoothly, not at all disturbed by the events that had just taken place.

"Let. Me. Go." Dezba hissed. Her shoulders were hunched forward in a defensive posture and she balanced her weight on the balls of her feet, preparing herself for flight. A burst of motion drew her attention from Sanderson for a split second. A fist appeared in her peripheral vision, but Dezba had only enough time to partially block the oncoming blow. It grazed across her left cheek, leaving a nasty cut; the force of the hit sending her staggering back into the wall.

"Bitch!" Miller spat venomously, blood still streaming from his broken nose. "I should just go ahead and kill you like I killed your mother! You were both more trouble than you're worth!"

The crazed agent made as if to lunge for the girl again, but a voice as cold as ice stopped him dead in his tracks. "COBRA Commander would not take it kindly if you screwed up again Miller. I would stop right where you are if I were you."

Miller whirled around to face the strange voice. Sanderson still stood in the doorway, but this time had a gun pointed directly at the S7 operative's chest. Miller paled, but still found his voice to speak, "Sanderson? What is the meaning of this?"

Sanderson smiled easily, a smile that quite frankly belied everything about his demeanor. Then, a startling transformation occurred, shocking both the girl and Miller. Sanderson's skin flickered like a bad TV picture before slowly changing to a slightly deeper, tanned brown. His blonde hair flickered as well then began to lengthen until it dropped down to shoulder length in long sorrel locks. Even his clothing seemed to change right before their eyes. The crisp business suit worn by most high-ranking S7 agents seemed to be instantaneously replaced by a long, black trench coat, black BDU pants and combat boots. But the most striking feature change of this human chameleon was his eyes. Large black patches covered his eyes in an-almost mask-like covering giving the stranger a sinister and dangerous air. A tiny smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he read the shock registering across Miller and Dezba's faces.

"Why, you folks look like you've seen a ghost. Ever heard of holographic projections?" His question was met with more blank, wide-eyed stares. "Guess not."

Finally, Miller found his voice and cautiously stepped forward towards the imposing figure. "Zartan!? I had no…What the hell…What is the meaning of this?" Miller sputtered angrily, tripping over his words like a kid with his shoe laces tied.

"After all your previous screw-ups, Miller, COBRA Commander decided to send me in to keep an eye on things and to make sure you wouldn't mess up again. Congratulations," he said, mockery dripping from his voice, "you've finally managed to capture the girl, without killing her I might add, so now your job is finished. I'll be taking things from here."

Before Miller could utter a syllable of protest, Zartan flicked his wrist and shot the S7 SIC straight through the heart. Dezba cried out in shock as the lifeless body collapsed to the floor, a bright blossom of scarlet quickly pooling on Miller's clothing and upon the floor. She averted her eyes from the grisly sight and stared in horror at Zartan. So much had just happened in such a short period of time, she didn't know if her brain would be able to comprehend it all.

Zartan made a noise as if clearing his throat and motioned with the pistol for her to move. Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, the girl numbly stepped around Miller's body and approached Zartan's figure. "That's a good, girl, Dezba," he crooned into her ear as he took her by the elbow and directed her back out into the maddening corridors. No one seemed to have heard the silent shot that took Miller's life and when Dezba turned her head to look at Zartan, his features had reverted back into the calm, complacent Mr. Sanderson. The interrogation door clicked softly behind them, securely hiding one more dark secret. Quickly and silently the two figures made their way down the corridors heading for an exit. No questions asked, no curious looks were cast. _"Thundercracker, where are you!?"_ she pleaded silently, as the grip on her elbow tightened.

* * *

Unlike the Boneyard, which had more or less been located in the middle of nowhere, S7 Denver Base was located right smack dab in the middle of downtown Denver. It was a low squat, flat-roofed office complex that gave no indication of being anything but that. The tree-lined front street gave the building a shady, yet friendly appearance even as several "office workers" hurriedly made their exodus from the glass sliding doors and out into the street. Several large vehicles would stop and pick up passengers before quickly re-entering the traffic flow and disappearing from sight. As the Decepticons expected, the humans were well aware of their imminent presence and were in full force making arrangements to abandon the facility. The good news was, according to Thundercracker, Dezba was still deep within building.

Soaring high above the city, energy signatures cloaked by a certain F-117, the three fighter jets circled and re-circled the city. None of the city's citizens paid any particular attention; military fly-bys were a common happening, that and the three jets were quite high for anyone without a pair of binoculars to make out the two distinctly different models and three drastic colors that comprised the trine.

At street level, a police interceptor idly surveyed the scurrying humans that were exiting the front of the building, checking to ensure no known faces slipped into the crowd unseen. On opposite sides of the structure, one black Viper kept watch on the side exit and one white Viper carefully guarded the other. Circling higher than any of the others, Soundwave ensured all the Decepticon's energy signatures were shielded from man and mech alike. He carefully scanned the building far below him and hacked into several Top Secret files at once to gain access to the buildings blueprints as well as its access codes. Next, the communications expert relayed his data back to groundside where two young, good-looking holograms were exiting the white Viper. They looked almost identical with the exception of their hair color and style. One had bright, fire-red hair that was smoothed back across his scalp; the other had a short-spiked, dusty-colored crew cut. Both "men" were slightly taller than average, but could still blend in well with the S7 crowd.

Although all Decepticons had hologram projectors that could operate at significant distances from their bodies, only those Decepticons highly trained in espionage and sabotage (such as Soundwave's minions) could project solid holograms over their bodies and blend into the world around without leaving their mechanized bodies at a distance. As such, this mission purely belonged to Rumble and Frenzy. Quickly and quietly, the two mini-bots stole into the crowd and disappeared into the building. Using Soundwave's data to navigate the winding corridors, Rumble and Frenzy brusquely pushed past escaping agents.

_Where the slag is she!? _Rumble demanded over his com to Soundwave, pushing another frightened human from his path. It was taking all of the mini-bot's patience to not haul off and crush some facial matter in light of the humans' panicky nature.

Above the city, Soundwave was soon joined by Thundercracker. Flying wingtip to wingtip, the two jets began to quickly coordinate the interior attack—Thundercracker guiding Soundwave by using his mental link with the girl and Soundwave relaying the directions to his two creations. It wasn't long before Rumble and Frenzy caught the shadowy figure of "Sanderson" disappearing around a corner, Dezba in tow.

_Bingo! That's more like it! _Rumble said jovially while giving Frenzy a light punch to the shoulder. They quickly sprinted down the hallway, intent on catching the fleeing humans. As they rounded another corner, they caught another glimpse of the human male holding the girl. An evil snarl crossed his features; quickly he raised the pistol and fired several shots in Rumble and Frenzy's direction. The bullets pinged harmlessly against the hologram and continued to ricochet down the hall. A look of shock replaced the man's snarling rage. Rumble and Frenzy, seeing as how the gig was up, quickly deactivated their holograms revealing their true forms.

"Give us the girl, meatsack!" Frenzy yelled threateningly.

"Yeah, hand her over and we might be able to convince the others to let you live!" Rumble added, taking a menacing step forward.

"You two walking tincans do not scare me," Zartan replied. "You want her this badly," he said, holding the struggling girl up by her twisted elbow, "come and get her!" He whirled out of sight, Dezba's desperate screams following them down the corridor. As he dashed into a fire escape, Zartan pulled a small communications device from a hidden pocket. He pressed a tiny button on its side and watched with satisfaction as small yellow light began to blip intermittently.

"You just wait," Dezba growled between gasps of pain, "When the Decepticons catch up with you, you'll be lucky if they leave a grease smear as a marker to your grave!"

Zartan gave her an almost pitiful look, before yanking her up the stairwell. "I hardly think _that_ will happen anytime soon, my dear." He gave her a harsh stare before placing two fingers directly behind her neck. She kicked and squirmed in a desperate attempt to wriggle out of his grip, but Thundercracker's added strength could only go so far. The pressure behind her scalp increased and then suddenly she found herself once again slipping into darkness. A loud clang followed by several heavy metallic footsteps echoed from several levels below the COBRA mercenary. Slinging the girl into a fireman's carry he continued up the stairs until he reached the fire exit. With a sharp kick, the door flew open and he stepped out into the sunshine. Almost immediately he was confronted by three large, heavily-muscled men, one being a police officer. The two men flanking the officer's side were ironically twins as well—one had solid black hair with two white streaks highlighting the sides, and the other had solid white hair with black streaks in the exact same area. All three stood a good six or seven inches over six feet and had searing brownish-red eyes. Zartan knew exactly who they were. "Back off alien scum!" the COBRA operative snarled in anger.

"Give us the female, germ!" Barricade growled with equal vehemence.

Suddenly a new voice called over the fray. "Hey you three! Step away from the boss!" The three Decepticons turned to see three more humans approaching them from behind. Each carried a weapon that resembled a rifle, all pointed directly at the three holoforms.

"Ripper! Torch! Buzzer! About time you idiots showed up! Take care of our friends will you?" Zartan called cheerily, as he tried to snake his way pass the Cons. Runabout saw their target try to escape and made a grab for him. Suddenly, he stiffened as if stabbed; his reddish eyes growing wide with surprise as he stared into Zartan's smirking face. Runabout then glanced downward and saw a long, spherical piece of metal wedged deep into the hologram; it crackled with electricity as it slowly began to fizzle the Con's image. Zartan's smirk widened, "Call it a remote EMP Circuit Disruptor. It's able to disrupt your ionic flow and essentially overload your circuits resulting in temporary paralysis, whether hologram or robot. Don't think S7 has been the only organization to study your biology. Destro is quite the scholar when it comes to studying alien technology and ways to counter it."

Zartan watched as the hologram slowly grayed out then fizzled out of existence all together. The other Cons were never given a chance to react as they too were shot with strange dart-like Circuit Disruptors. They each fell to their knees, power quickly failing to their holograms as well as their main systems. The strange device was forcing them into an emergency stasis lock. With one last snarl of rage, Barricade's hologram faded away, his threat dying in the wind. Zartan then turned and regarded his men. "Two more are coming up the fire escape. Deal with them. I don't know what they flyboys are waiting for, but keep an eye on them as well."

Ripper nodded his head and loaded another dart into the rifle. "Done."

Adjusting the girl's weight, Zartan then quickly made his way down the backside of the S7 building and into an alleyway where his vehicle was parked. As he passed a darkened doorway, another figure moved quickly to follow him. Too late, Zartan tried to dodge the sledgehammer blow to his shoulder. With a grunt he collapsed to the filthy alleyway floor. Dezba tumbled from his shoulder and lay limply to the side, a low moan escaping her lips. As Zartan tried to turn and face his attacker, he felt a sharp jab at the back of his neck. With a feeble struggle the mercenary quickly succumbed to the rapid sedative. Without missing a beat, the mysterious new figure quickly tied Zartan's hands and feet as well as gagged him. He stripped the operative of as many weapons as he could find and stored them in his own coat for further examination later. Next, the stranger then gathered the girl into his arms. Dezba's head lolled against his shoulder, leaving small dark smears of blood against the artificial fabric. She groaned again and made as if to try and push him away.

"Shhhh," a voice soothed. "You're going to be all right, now. Just hang with me." He didn't know if she understood him, but his voice seemed to quiet her feeble struggles. The man darted down an adjacent alley and quickly came upon a vehicle parked not a block from the S7 base building. Opening the door and sliding the passenger seat forward, he gently laid the semi-unconscious girl in the backseat before fading from existence. The door closed of its own accord and the powerful V8 engine rumbled to life. It slowly pulled out into the traffic pattern, its crisp yellow and black paint job flashing against the sunlight.

* * *

High above the city of Denver, Starscream and his trine continued to circle the area. The plan had started off well enough, but had quickly disintegrated into chaos. Rumble and Frenzy had found the girl but she wasn't with Miller, in fact his biological signature was not even in existence. The two casseticons had then followed this new human until they had him cornered between Barricade, Runabout and Runamuck. At that point things certainly looked as if they would be getting the girl back and without drawing any unnecessary attention by other humans. But then the plan literally fell to pieces as Starscream watched his best ground troops fall and sink into stasis lock, allowing the human to make an escape. To his knowledge, no known human weapons could knock a Cybertronian into stasis lock as instantaneously as those he just saw used. It was then Starscream realized their human foe was much more dangerous than he originally thought.

To compound matters worse, Thundercracker had worked himself into a blind rage. He had been cheated of his vengeance on Miller and now was forced to watch Dezba slowly slip away into the shadows again. It had taken the combined efforts of both Starscream and Skywarp to hold the enraged jet back to keep from blowing their cover. At this point, Starscream normally would not have cared to begin to obliterate the city, but the chance of the girl sustaining damage was much too great, that coupled with another belated turn of events changed his mind rather quickly.

Just when the dusty-colored Seeker thought the girl would disappear from his scanners again, a most unexpected savior swooped in to do his and Thundercracker's dirty work for them—the Pit-spawned Autobot scout. Taking the human kidnapper by surprise, the young scout had quite violently knocked him out and took the girl to his alt form. So, all was not lost. With the girl in Autobot custody it would only be a matter of following the scout to the Autobot's base and negotiating with Prime, as well as making sure no more pesky S7 operatives got the same idea.

Turning to his enraged trinemate, Starscream explained his reasoning to Thundercracker with instructions to follow, but not to engage the scout.

"I don't like it, Starscream," Thundercracker protested. "She's there for the taking. Why not let me just take her now and be done with it?"

"Because, I feel that there is much more to this situation than any of us first thought and even as Optimus believes we are withholding information from him, so I believe that the Prime is doing likewise."

Thundercracker grunted angrily, "I still don't like it. She's been through enough as it is. I'm surprised she's still functional!"

"I don't care whether you like it or not!" Starscream snapped. "Your _pet_ needs medical attention. Attention that I cannot provide! You can still track her, so just ensure she makes it to the Autobot base safely. Do _not_ engage the scout; if more of these Pit-spawned S7 germs attack, then engage. After you see her safely to the base, standby to await my arrival."

"And just where will you be in the meantime?" the blue Seeker growled menacingly.

Starscream turned to him, red optics flashing like sparks. "In case you haven't noticed, TC, we have five soldiers currently in emergency stasis lock. The last thing I need to happen at this point is for those pathetic insects to capture them as they did Megatron. Soundwave and I will try to wake them before they are discovered. Now you and Skywarp get going!"

Giving his commanding officer a scathing glare of his own, Thundercracker transformed back into his F-15 alt mode and rocketed off in the same direction the Autobot had taken, Skywarp close on his thrusters. Starscream watched them disappear into the distance, a deep disturbance unsettling his spark. Perhaps it was time to talk to Prime and determine just what in the Pit was going on here.

**A/N: Please push the button! You know you want to!**


	18. Demons, Past and Present

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* * *

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A/N: We find out a little more of TC's past in this chapter and it marks the beginning of some dark days ahead. Enjoy!

**Chapter 18: Demons, Past and Present**

"_Bumblebee to Optimus."_

"_Yes, Bumblebee."_

"_I've secured the human female. ETA approximately 12 earth hours."_

"_What's her condition?"_

"_Not good Optimus. The S7 agents roughed her up pretty good. She's been unconscious so far. I've scanned at least one broken appendage, two fractured chest supports, as well as severe bruising and multiple burns. Ratchet will have his work cut out for him that's for sure."_

"_Hmmm. I will notify him immediately. I will also have Sam and Mikaela stay nearby for assistance. If she wakes, it will be helpful having them here to help get her settled. She's been through much over the past several solar cycles."_

"_I'll say. Staying with the Cons would be bad enough, but getting beaten and betrayed by your own people…"_

"_I know, Bumblebee. We'll do our best to help her recover. See you soon. Bumblebee?.......Bumblebee do you read me?"_

"_I may have a problem, Optimus. I've got two flying shadows tailing my exhaust fumes…looks like it might be Thundercracker and Skywarp."_

"_Are they preparing for engagement?"_

"_Hard to tell, but I don't think so. If they were going to attack they would have done so already. It looks like they're just following me for now."_

"_Interesting. Starscream appeared really interested in keeping the girl alive. If they know you have her, and it appears that may be the case, they will not risk a full-scale assault."_

"_What should I do, Prime?"_

"_Continue on to the base. Don't fight them unless they fire upon you first."_

"_And if they try to take her?"_

"_Let us hope it doesn't come down to that."_

* * *

Flying just within scanner range of the yellow and black Camero, Thundercracker and Skywarp easily kept up with the ground-bound Autobot. It really aggravated Thundercracker's circuits to know Dezba was within grabbing range, but he was under strict orders to not interfere. Starscream was right. The Autobot's medical officer was far more capable of helping her recover quickly than they were. Still, it unsettled him to know she was in Autobot hands; not because they wouldn't care for her, but because he knew it would be difficult in getting her back. Old memories began flashing across his CPU. Some were of him battling the Autobots; others were of him and Solarflare patrolling the skies of Cybertron before the War. The images continued to alternate between violent battles and serene moments—screams of the dying mixing with the melodical laughs of his sibling. Growling lowly, he shoved the tortuous images to the back of his processor and constructed a firewall to prevent access. Thankfully Skywarp chose the same moment to strike up a conversation. The blue Seeker gratefully accepted the distraction.

"So tell me again why we can't turn that mobile scrapheap into slag?" he asked, an almost pleading tone seeping into his vocal processor.

"I've already told you. Screamer wants the Autobots to give the human medical attention. They can't very well do that unless we let her get there, now can they?" Thundercracker replied patiently.

"So what? Screamer fixed her when you first brought her to the base. What makes this situation different?"

"A good bit, Warp. The S7 humans tortured her pretty extensively. Believe me when I say I felt every bit of it," the navy jet growled causing his thrusters to rumble like thunder involuntarily.

Skywarp harrumphed his concurrence but said nothing more on the topic. For a long while they flew in silence, keeping a silent vigil over the lone Autobot like two hawks stalking a rabbit. Each was primed for battle; the slightest hint that anything was out of place and the heavens would rain fire. But as the miles dragged by, not so much as a blip on their scanners indicated anything with hostile intent. Finally, Skywarp broke the silence once more, but when he spoke, his question took Thundercracker totally by surprise.

"TC?"

What Skywarp?"

"What exactly happened to your sister?"

Thundercracker nearly stalled his engines at the suddenness of the question. It was totally unexpected, yet deep down Thundercracker had expected it to surface sooner or later. Skywarp wasn't present during those painful events that changed his life forever. Of all the mechs that should know, Skywarp should be one of the precious few, but that didn't make drudging up old memories any less agonizing.

"It's a long story, Skywarp," the older mech finally replied, trying to evade the question. But Skywarp was having none of it.

"Like we have anything better to do?" Skywarp snorted through his intakes.

"I don't want to discuss it, Skywarp."

"Why not, TC?" Skywarp goaded, "Afraid?"

That caught the blue Seeker's attention. "Warp, there are some things in this life that are not meant to be dug up once they've been buried. Now, unless you have a sick desire to join Dezba in the Autobot's med bay, I suggest you drop the subject."

Skywarp ignored the warning as easily as passing through a cumulus cloud. "You two must have been close, huh?" he prodded.

For the longest time, Thundercracker didn't reply. Skywarp really had no idea. Actually, none of the other Cons with the exception of Starscream had an idea. That one reason alone was why Thundercracker obeyed Starscream, normally without objection. He knew the truth. Blackmail was a powerful persuasion to do what one was told. But Thundercracker was beginning to tire of being under its influence. Thousands of vorns had slowly dulled the razor-raw emotions that at one time would have put him at the risk of losing his life or having it taken. Plus, it wasn't as if he could return to that life anyway; he was a Con now, for better or for worse. Since Skywarp joined the Decepticons after those tumultuous events, the teleport did not know of his past. Now, Skywarp wasn't ignorant; the younger Seeker had known that his indigo counterpart carried a very guarded, dark history. Despite that, the two flyers had developed a comradery that transcended most of the "friendships" in the Decepticon ranks. In battle, few other soldiers could compare to their precision, teamwork and lethalness. In fact, Thundercracker had only ever worked smoothly in tandem with one other. Perhaps it was time.

After a prolonged silence, he answered Skywarp's question. "Yes, Warp, we were. Her name was Solarflare."

"Wait one nanoclick. Solarflare was your sister!?" he asked, surprise edging his voice.

Thundercracker grunted his affirmative. "Before the War began we were members of the Cybertronian Elite Aerial Guard and we were the best Vos had to offer."

"I knew that Solarflare was a Guardsmember, but I didn't know you were too. And you said you were from Vos? Isn't that where Screamer is from?"

"Yes. We all knew each other then too, but on a name-only basis. Things have changed drastically since then," Thundercracker conceded.

"So what happened?"

"The War happened. Sides were picked and battles were fought."

"That's not what I meant!" Skywarp snapped. "What happened to Solarflare and for that matter you? I never heard your name mentioned in the Guard and I know I'm not the smartest mech around, but I've always thought it kind of strange that the Guard's best flier would suddenly crash in a training accident, especially one caused by her own partner."

"It was no accident! Of that I can assure you!" Thundercracker growled bitterly.

"Why's that?" Skywarp asked. Now something definitely wasn't adding up. TC had said he was in the Elite Air Guard, but Skywarp had not once seen his name associated with anything having to do with the Guard. Was TC lying? Or did this thing go deeper than what the Council had told the populace those many vorns ago? As he thought these questions over, Thundercracker's voice wrecked his train of thought.

"Because _I_ _was _her partner!"

Before Skywarp could ask any more questions, or for that matter recover from the surprise of this new development, the Autobot base came into view. Even from this distance, the two Seekers could see all the Autobots standing outside waiting, weapons drawn and pointed skyward. To make matters worse, Starscream's voice cut across both of their com links.

"_Thundercracker, Skywarp! I am enroute to your position. Continue to the Autobot base and stand-by for further instructions. Do not engage the Autobots. Starscream out."_

"A little late for that," Thundercracker rumbled as he watched the figures of the Autobots grow larger and larger. "Looks like we have a welcoming committee, Warp."

"Well, I sure as slag don't want to turn tail and run!" Skywarp asked. He forced himself to temporarily forget TC's revelation and concentrate on the problem at hand. But their conversation was far from finished, of that he would make sure.

"As long as the girl is in the crossfire, they won't do anything rash," The blue Seeker replied. "And neither will we. Land a few hundred meters away from them and don't make any moves that would be construed as hostile."

"Huh, this coming from the mech who only yesterday wanted to turn their medic into a garbage compactor," Skywarp snorted derisively.

Thundercracker ignored the barb, true though it was. Together the two Decepticons transformed and landed gracefully in front of the Autobots, a large cloud of dust and grit surrounding their feet. Both stood tall and proud, their dark colored wings catching the desert sunlight and reflecting it back brightly. Standing like two metal statues, the Cons waited for the Autobots to make the first move; they didn't need to wait long.

The tall red and blue-flamed leader of the Autobots took two steps forward and asked in a commanding voice, "State your business here, Decepticons."

* * *

The Autobots watched their enemies warily, each and every one of their weapons humming a lethal song. Just because their last meeting did not end in violence did not mean that this one would follow suit, especially now that they had the girl.

Thundercracker and Skywarp exchanged looks before the dark blue mech spoke out loudly, "Starscream seeks to hold a council with you, Optimus Prime."

Prime seemed to mull the information over; he stroked his chin with a great, blue hand before replying. "That may be well, but why are _you _here, Thundercracker?" Optimus countered.

Thundercracker shifted ever so slightly, the only indication of his discomfort. His optics brightened to a brilliant ruby before dimming down to a glowering russet. "I wanted to ensure that the girl made it safely to your base." His optics rested briefly on the Camero before returning to Optimus.

"Liar!" Ironhide shouted, taking two steps to be even with Optimus. "We know you want the girl, _Decepticon_, and will do anything necessary to get her back!"

"Enough, Ironhide!" Optimus commanded, barring the black mech from further progression with his forearm.

"If I wanted to take the human, Skywarp and I would have trashed that rolling scrap pile long before we got here!" Thundercracker retorted angrily, taking a step forward while simultaneously balling his fists.

"His point is valid, Ironhide," Ratchet said. "If these two were going to take her back to Starscream, they would have done so already. Now can we please end this discussion so I can see to the girl? She certainly isn't getting any better whilst we stand here arguing!"

Optimus looked at Thundercracker who in turn gave a curt nod to the Autobot leader. "Do what you must, Ratchet," Optimus replied.

"Sam, Mikaela, I will need your assistance," Ratchet called out towards the base. Two tiny figures looked hesitantly from the large open door. One appeared very reluctant to leave the base's relative safety. Finally, Mikaela gave Sam a shove, thus making the boy's mind up for him. She ran over next to the yellow car and quickly opened the door. While she was doing this, here bright blue eyes never left the two Seekers for more than a few seconds.

The tension in the air was nearly palpable. Thundercracker tentatively reached out mentally to Dezba's mind. Her unconsciousness had prevented any contact during the trip from Denver, but he felt her presence beginning to stir ever so slightly as she was helped from the car. She was slowly waking up.

_Dezba, can you hear me?_

_Thundercracker? Is that you?_

_Yes. I am here, _he replied, taking a small step forward as he watched her body exit the car. Sam and Mikaela were supporting her between them, one bloody arm stretched behind each of their necks. They each had wrapped one of their arms around Dezba's waist to help support her weight. At the touch of his gentle, mental probing, her head seemed to perk a little. She was weak, very, very weak, but even in her decrepit condition, she tried to shove Sam and Mikaela away.

_Who are these people? What's going on? Where are you!?_ She asked, each question becoming more frantic than the last. Did Sector Seven still have her? Where was that creep who shot Miller? And where did all the blue lights come from? She struggled to catch her bearings and to find Thundercracker among the large, dark blobs that constituted her vision. She vaguely heard two youthful voices try to comfort her, but at this point in time her panicked mind would only find solitude in one being.

The blue Seeker felt her mind beginning to panic, he began to reassure her while slowly stepping forward. But Ironhide had an objection.

"That's far enough, Deceptiscum!" he snarled, cannons humming madly and pointed straight at Thundercracker's chest.

"The girl needs to see me!" Thundercracker growled, raising his fists once more. He had already let Starscream come between him and Dezba, not to mention S7; he would not let some fool of an Autobot stop him now.

"I don't know a human yet that wants to go willingly with a Con! And I don't know what kind of fraggin' trick you're trying to pull, but it stops here!"

"Watch it, Autobot! You mess with one of us, you mess with both!" Skywarp interjected, "And I've always wanted a shot at knockin' you down a peg or two!" Gearing and wires smoothly moved about to reveal two large cannons on either forearm; both were glowing with a deadly rosy light.

"Ironhide! I said 'STAND DOWN'!" Optimus repeated forcefully. His voice left no room for misinterpretation. "Any further insubordination will result in consequences, am I clear?"

"But Optimus…!"

"Am I clear?" Optimus repeated softly.

"Crystal, Optimus," Ironhide said grudgingly while glaring daggers at the two Seekers.

During this time, Dezba's struggles were growing more and more frenetic as she fought against Sam and Mikaela. "Uh, Ratchet? We have your patient, but I think she's a little psyched right now," Sam said while struggling to keep his grip on Dezba.

"Here I will take her," Ratchet said softly, reaching down to scoop the girl up in a large yellow hand. No sooner had the words left his processor then Dezba completely lost all composure.

"NOOOOOO! YOU WON'T TAKE ME AGAIN! THUNDERCRACKER, HELP ME PLEASE!" she wailed. As if Ratchet's words were a source of power, she yanked free from Sam and Mikaela both, stumbling away as fast as her injured body would let her.

Thundercracker felt his spark rend, as he heard the desperation, fear, and anger coalesce in her voice. He could feel every emotion running rampant through her brain. He could feel her panic as she tried to stumble away from the unfamiliar masses surrounding her. But her cries…Dezba sounded identical to Solarflare in her last hours.

_**Flashback…**_

"_Thundercracker, help me, PLEASE!"_

"_NO! Let her go Megatron!"_

"_Oh, I think not, Thundercracker!"_

_**End Flashback…**_

With a feral growl the blue Seeker stepped up to Ironhide and then roughly shoved the black mech aside as easily as a person parts tall grass.

Ironhide roared in rage and despite Optimus' warning began to raise his cannons at the Seeker's back. He felt a strong pressure on his forearm and looked over to see that Prime had clamped a hand onto his cannon and was forcing his arm down. "Now is not the place, nor the time, my friend. Let us wait and see what happens." Optimus looked over at Skywarp who also had his arm cannons raised, but was slowly beginning to lower them. Had Ironhide fired a shot, Optimus had no doubt that both he and Hide would be the first injured on this unnecessary battlefield. Skywarp rarely, if ever, missed.

All the Autobots, Sam and Mikaela included, watched in stunned silence as the Con and the girl came together. Thundercracker crouched down before her and extended a large, clawed hand to the young woman. Dezba, now sobbing, fell short of his hand but grasped onto one of his fingers as if her very life depended on it. Hot tears spilled from her eyes and onto the dark, blue-black metal as she cried from both relief and pain. As gently as possible, he scooped her up into his palm and then held her close to his chest. He cupped his hand over her shivering body and brought her up to the metal plating that protected his spark chamber, just above his canopy, allowing his spark's warmth to ease the girl's chills. Mentally, he soothed her as a parent reassures a frightened child; he pushed his own consciousness into her mind and tried to relax the tensions and pain coursing through her thoughts. Slowly, his efforts began to show. Her mind reached out to his own and began to slow from its rampaging panic attack. Her shivering began to subside and her sobs eased into steady breathing. She tried to huddle closer to his chest, savoring the warmth that his spark brought to her ravaged body.

"I thought I would never see you again," she whispered hoarsely. "I've lost everyone I ever knew and I feared I had lost you too."

_It'll take more than a few pathetic squishies to keep me from you,_ he reassured her. _Now, you need medical attention and there are those here who wish to help you._

"Who are they?"

"They are Autobots," he replied out loud. "They will give you care that we cannot."

"Autobots? But aren't….aren't they the guys you've…been fighting with?"

"Yes, they are, but things have changed slightly since your capture by Sector Seven," he said, looking up to see every optic focused on him. He raised his helm high and returned their stares defiantly. "Do you now believe that I mean the human no harm?" he said addressing the Autobots. He turned around to face Optimus, a granite-like glint in his optics. "I will explain our connection to you, and you alone, provided that I am allowed to be with the girl from here on out."

Optimus nodded his head in agreement. "It is quite clear to me that she is deeply attached to you, Thundercracker. As long as we agree to a temporary cease-fire, I have no objection to your request."

"A cease-fire it is."

"Well come on then! Let's get this girl fixed up; I haven't got all night!" Ratchet groused, turning to enter the base. Thundercracker hesitated ever so slightly before following the neon yellow Hummer. He was about to enter the Autobot base; he was about to be surrounded by mechs that he at one time had known closely, but now they regarded him as an enemy. It was a very disconcerting feeling, but for Dezba's sake, he quashed those doubts and strode forward confidently. During his brief conversation with Prime, Dezba had fallen asleep in his hand, her breaths even and steady. He tightened his fingers protectively around her; he was all she had now. Primus had seen fit to give him another chance to be a guardian, human though she was, but it was a chance that Thundercracker now deeply appreciated.

* * *

Thundercracker paced back and forth irritably as he watched Ratchet's hologram gingerly work on Dezba's various wounds. They were severe, numerous and painful. Of all the injuries for the human body to sustain, burns were one of the worst. As many as thirty torch burns dotted the girl's upper chest and stomach; the ugly black and red spots glared viciously under the bright lights of the med bay. Even a person with a strong constitution would be forced to look away, if not for the sight, then for the sickly smell of burnt flesh. Dezba's burns weren't the only injuries either. Sure enough, she had re-fractured her arm and two ribs. Large black and purple contusions blotched both arms and covered her right cheek. Blood matted her raven hair and dirt and filth made what remained of her clothing nearly indistinguishable. It truly was a miracle she had withstood the torture that Miller had given her and in truth, had not the blue Seeker intervened when he had, she would have been very close to opening death's door.

Once in the med bay, Ratchet had gently taken the girl from Thundercracker's reluctant hand and gave her a sleep-inducing inoculation. For the past three hours, the meticulous medic cleaned, stitched, and bandaged the many wounds, using his human hologram to speed the work. With a long-suffering sigh, the dark brown-haired doctor turned to face the agitated jet.

"You realize that if you wear a hole in my floor, you're going to be the one to fix it," he said, his cerulean eyes carrying just a spark of humor and warning.

The navy-colored Seeker only grunted in response. Autobot humor was the last thing he wanted to deal with at this time. However, the warning wasn't overlooked and he forced himself to remain standing, red optics glowering.

"I'm going to need your assistance, Thundercracker," Ratchet said suddenly.

"Why?"

"Well, unless you haven't noticed, you and I are the only ones in here at the moment, and I'm going to need a little help wrapping this girl's chest supports. Now, do you or do you not have a holographic matter projector?"

Thundercracker's optics darkened to a bloody crimson. Of course he had a holographic matter projector! Every Decepticon did, but he was loathe to use it. To use his human hologram was degrading and humiliating; he was above such ground-hugging filth! His optics focused back onto Dezba's unconscious form. _It_ is _to help her_, he rationalized with himself.

"Well?" Ratchet said expectantly, an impatient look creasing his normally placid features.

Thundercracker growled softly before his optics darkened altogether and his metallic body slumped benignly against the wall. On the other side of the table, the air shimmered with heat-wave-like ripples before slowly materializing into a human-shaped form. Ratchet raised a dark eyebrow as he regarded Thundercracker's holoform.

The being before the medic was a powerfully tall and muscularly-built man. By human standards, the blue Seeker had to have stood right at 6'8 or 6'9". His hair was as black as coal; a few unruly locks hung over deep, wine-red eyes. Broad cheek bones and a sharp nose and chin complemented his facial features and large, powerful muscles stretched the fabric of a navy-blue T-shirt. What skin that did show was as pale white as the first winter snow. To finish off his holographic image, Thundercracker wore a pair of faded blue jeans and black combat boots. Overall, the Decepticon exuded an air of quiet danger and sleeping hostility, just waiting for the right moment to ignite.

"What do you want me to do?" Thundercracker growled in his deep, baritone voice.

"I need you to prop her up and support her while I run the bandage around her rib cage," Ratchet replied, taking a crisp, white roll of bandages from the supply tray.

Thundercracker nodded his understanding and then as gently as possible slipped one broad hand under Dezba's back. He lifted her up into a sitting position and placed his other hand over her clavicle in order to steady her. Once she was stable, Ratchet began wrapping the bandage around her chest.

For the first time since meeting the human, he marveled at just how delicate she really was. In fact it deeply puzzled him how a creature this fragile could have withstood so much brutality in the past solar cycle. How was it possible? He abhorred his human form, despised it's weaknesses and organic shortcomings, namely the lack of flight, yet here was Dezba, living proof of just what a human was capable of withstanding, both physically and mentally. His black brows creased together as he pondered this seemingly paradoxical relationship. Irritably he shook his head to clear his thoughts, black hair falling loosely against his scalp.

"Something wrong, Thundercracker?" Ratchet asked innocently while still continuing to wrap the bandages.

"Nothing's wrong, Autobot," he snapped a little too hastily.

Ratchet merely quirked an eyebrow, but didn't call the Seeker's bluff. It was better to let him "stew in his own juices" as Sam liked to say when Ironhide became ill-tempered. But there was one thing that had been tickling Ratchet's processor since the Decepticon's arrival. He decided to broach the subject.

"It's good to see that you haven't abandoned all your morals, Thundercracker," he said off-handly, not even removing his eyes from the job at hand.

The man across from him jerked his head up as if he had been slapped; blazing crimson irises boring into the medic. "What's that suppose to mean!?" he spat venomously.

"Not every Autobot has forgotten what you once stood for," Ratchet replied, returning Thundercracker's heated gaze with his own. They stared at each other long and hard, cool ocean-blue eyes meeting fiery, cherry red ones. After a full minute of intense staring, Thundercracker finally broke and jerked his head away, black hair shielding his face. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to ignore the well of emotions threatening to explode from his spark. Ratchet continued on with his work, a tiny smirk pulling at the corners of his lips; he had gotten to the Seeker. Perhaps he wasn't as lost as they said he was; the young girl before him proved it.

"Done. Lay her down nice and easy," he said after a prolonged silence.

As Thundercracker eased Dezba's body back onto the table, the door of the med bay hissed open to reveal the Autobot leader. Instantly the hologram disappeared and Thundercracker's optics brightened to a flaming red as he reanimated his metal body. It felt good to be back in his root form; unconsciously, he stretched his wings, the red-striped tips nearly touching the ceiling.

"How is she doing, Ratchet?" Optimus asked as he stepped through the doors and approached the med table.

The doctor's hologram flickered once, before disappearing completely. Across the room leaning against the far wall, Optimus watched as his friend on-lined and reacquainted himself with his larger form. "She's doing well, Optimus, much better than I thought she would at this point. The child's got a warrior's spirit. I've put her into a drug-induced sleep so that she wouldn't feel any more pain while I attended to her injuries. She should wake in a few hours."

"That's good to hear," Optimus replied. He then turned and looked at Thundercracker. "Now that Ms. Collins seems to be in good condition, would you like to explain to me how the two of you met?"

The question was innocent enough, but the blue Seeker knew exactly what Prime was asking—an explanation. His processor was still reeling from Ratchet's earlier comments; Primus why did Autobots have to be so fragging difficult!? He shifted his optics warily to the medic.

"If you're worried about me repeating anything you and Optimus discuss, don't be. I am a medical officer after all, and I have yet to violate any of my patient's confidentiality," Ratchet said smoothly, catching Thundercracker's objection before he could even voice it.

"You have our word that anything we discuss, stays in this room unless you deem otherwise or it becomes a threat to my soldiers," Optimus added, understanding filling his blue optics.

Thundercracker's optics darkened as he mulled over what the Autobots' had said. He had known Optimus and Ratchet both for millennia and he had yet to know of either of them breaking their word, enemies or not. It was still a very touchy subject for him to reveal this strange phenomenon between himself and the human; so far revelation had caused him nothing but trouble, but from out of the muddle of indecision, one fact remained crystal clear—this connection could not remain a secret for long. It would be better to let Prime know now what he was getting into, than to wait for Starscream to arrive and announce it to the world. At least this way, he had some face time to sway Prime in his favor without the influence of the other Autobots, namely Ironhide.

"Very well," he finally conceded. "I first met this girl deep in the area of what the humans refer to as the Mojave Desert…" and so he related the tale of their meeting, the strange connection that they shared, as well as the tumultuous events with Soundwave, up to Skywarp's defeat and her capture by Sector Seven. When he was finished a veiled silence filled the bay, the only sound being Dezba's steady breaths as she slept on the table.

"I now understand why you two are so close. As far as I know, this type of connection is unprecedented for our race," Optimus murmured.

"I must admit I've never heard of it before either. To my knowledge, the only mental connections between Cybertronians that are shared to this degree, are between the telepaths and their cassettes, such as Soundwave or Blaster."

"Well, that is as much as I can tell you, Autobots," Thundercracker rumbled, crossing his massive arms over his canopy. Restlessness was seeping in once again. He looked quickly over at the table and watched the gentle rise and fall of the girl's breaths.

"We have much to discuss when Starscream arrives. For now, I'm going to take my leave of you. You're welcome to walk around the base if that is your desire. I believe Skywarp is outside waiting for Starscream's arrival," Prime said, turning to approach the doors.

"I would prefer to remain here."

"Very well," Optimus replied, "Someone will notify you when your leader arrives." He gave Thundercracker a respectful nod then disappeared out the doors.

"If you need anything, the rec room is down the hallway, the first door on your right. You'll find energon supplies in there," Ratchet offered, preparing to leave also. He really didn't like the idea of leaving a Decepticon in his med bay unattended, but he did not want a repeat of the girl's reactions if she should wake in the med bay alone or with an unfamiliar mech. His other option, staying in the med bay with them, would only serve to aggravate the blue jet further than he already was. The tension was tight enough already.

Thundercracker merely nodded and patiently waited for Ratchet to leave.

"You do realize that your connection will be discovered sooner or later," Ratchet said just before leaving. He paused to listen to Thundercracker's reply.

"I realize that, but I wanted Prime to be aware of our situation before the meeting takes place."

"A wise move on your part." He gave Thundercracker one last, studious look before exiting the med bay.

Thundercracker waited until the doors hissed closed and then slowly walked over to Dezba's table. He watched her sleep for several long minutes, slowly replaying the past few breem's events. He dreaded the meeting, but knew it was necessary. He would be prepared for the onslaught of outrage from both sides; after all, he had walked down that pathway once before and here he was, still functional. Reaching a hand down and as gently as possible, he cradled Dezba's sleeping form in his palm and walked to the far end of the med bay. He sat against the wall and eased himself into a comfortable position, pistons and gears clicking softly with the movement. A long sigh escaped his through his intakes as he prepared to get some well-needed rest. He placed his hands against his canopy and checked one last time to ensure that Dezba was safely nestled in his palm. He wanted to be present when she woke and this was the best way he knew. For some strange reason, he did not want her to leave his sight. Over the past several solar cycles, every time she did, something bad would occur, resulting in one or the other encountering intense pain. Well, he'd put a stop to that!

Slowly, one by one, he powered down his systems, leaving only his short-range motion detectors at full power in case anyone got any ideas to sneak up on him. He doubted that any of the Autobots would be foolish enough to do so, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Finally, after several long minutes, his optics dimmed and then darkened completely as girl and Decepticon slept peacefully for the first time in days.


	19. Culminations

**A/N: The title kind of says it all. In this chapter we finally learn just how TC joined the Cons, Optimus is having reservations, and the stage is set for some "interesting" events to come, namely negotiations between the Cons and 'Bots, as well as a personal score that needs settling. It's a little shorter, but much is revealed. Recently, I came across a song that pretty much sums up TC's life and character; It's "Life of My Own" by 3 Doors Down. Great song in any event; give it a listen. Anyhoo, enough chatter--Enjoy!**

**Chapter 19: Culminations**

Optimus Prime stood in the entrance way of the massive building that comprised the central complex of the Autobot base. The Autobots had been given close to 500 square acres in order to ensure their privacy and to conduct training operations as they saw fit. Being in the southern Nevada desert meant neighbors were few and far between and the large expanse of land only cushioned that security. The Autobot leader studied the first few twinkling stars that had begun to dot the evening skyline. The stillness and beauty of the desert sunset belied the turmoil that was swirling through Prime's CPU. So much had happened in the past two and half days—the Boneyard slaughter, the human's recovery, her connection with the Decepticons, Thundercracker in particular, and now the soon-to-be arrival of Starscream, the Decepticon leader himself. The humans termed it the "snowball effect," when one small event triggers an avalanche of interconnected events that seem to never stop and only grow more troublesome as time drags by.

The fact that Starscream was even considering meeting with him was enough to puzzle Prime. He had known Starscream since before the War; he had been an outstanding scientist as well as a great advisor to Megatron when he was Lord High Protectorate. When the War began, Starscream's decision to join the Decepticons surprised Optimus; he never expected for the scientist to exchange his test tubes and studies for weapons and violent action, but it happened all the same. Since the War's inception, Optimus wasn't surprised as easily as he used to be. But still, with Starscream leading the Decepticons there may be a slim chance to end this War. Starscream always had a penchant for reviewing alternative methodologies. Unfortunately, most of the methods he did come up with were of the vile and underhanded variants.

Then there was Thundercracker. Optimus inhaled a vast amount of air and then expelled it slowly through his air vents. Next to the human girl, the blue jet was the biggest conundrum in this mystery. Optimus shook his head wearily; the sound of approaching footsteps quickly drew his attention.

"Waiting for the new arrivals, Optimus?" Ratchet's rich, mechanical voice came from behind. Prime turned and gave the CMO a small smile.

"I guess you could say that, Ratchet," he replied, "I presume they will be here shortly if my estimations are correct."

"Well, you did send out a locating signal the night of the Boneyard incident; they should be arriving sometime tonight," Ratchet confirmed, stepping up to stand beside his leader. A flash of concern crossed Optimus's features as he listened to his trusted friend. The change in demeanor did not escape Ratchet's attention. "What disturbs you, Prime?" he asked gently, although he had a pretty good idea of what the answer might be.

"Several things concern me, old friend," Optimus sighed, "Tensions will certainly be tight when Starscream arrives and they will only get worse when our allies land and begin to head for the base. I also fear that a fight may be inevitable," he confided, casting a worried glance at Ratchet.

The medic seemed to mull over Optimus's words for a minute before he formulated a reply. "It's definitely a possibility; on that I won't disagree, but Starscream is a very capable leader and we both know he won't do anything foolish." He chuckled softly to himself. "In all honesty Prime, I think we should concern ourselves with the behavior of _our_ troops more so than the Cons. The fact that we'll be having several new arrivals in the midst of negotiations will be enough to send their processors into emergency shutdown."

Optimus gave another small smile at Ratchet's wry comment. It was true; if those coming were who he thought they were, then they would have a difficult time grasping the concept that the Autobots and Decepticons were going to be having negotiations. At this point in the War, it was almost a foreign concept. But he hadn't intended for Ratchet to take his comment in that particular direction. No, there was something else bothering Optimus; he had seen the implications the moment Ironhide stepped forward and raised his cannons at the Seekers' arrival.

"That may be true, Ratchet, but that wasn't quite the fight I was referencing."

Ratchet was silent as he tried to decipher Optimus's meaning. Suddenly, understanding came to him and his cerulean optics brightened with the revelation. "You're referencing the complications between Ironhide and Thundercracker, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes, I am," Optimus answered. "Their history is rocky at best."

"Hmmm. Indeed it is. So it's safe to assume that Ironhide has never forgiven his old friend, has he?"

"No, he hasn't," Optimus replied with a resigned sigh. "Thundercracker was a phenomenal warrior. He and Solarflare both. I would dare say they were best flyers in the Autobot army," Optimus said softly, once again turning his head to the stars. "When I heard the news of Solarflare's death and Thundercracker's betrayal…" Optimus trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.

"Optimus," Ratchet began solemnly, "you and me both know there is more to that incident than what we were told, and now that Thundercracker is here of his own free will…now may be the time to find out the other half of that story from the being to whom it all happened. I myself believe that Thundercracker never did abandon our cause completely, at least not willingly."

"What makes you say that, Ratchet?" Optimus inquired, cocking his helm to one side curiously.

"Think about it, Optimus. Thundercracker has never killed anyone unless he was attacked first, even as a Decepticon. He has only ever retaliated when close friends, family units, even innocents were in danger. That is the Autobot programming acting deep within his processor. Take this human for example," Ratchet elaborated, gesturing back inside toward the med bay, "You yourself saw how protective he was over her first at the Boneyard, then following Bumblebee here, and now within my med bay. He refuses to leave her side. Their mental connection only serves to reiterate my observations. If he ever truly were a Decepticon, I would bet my finest high grade that that girl would have long been another dust cloud floating on this planet's breezes."

Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Your observations are sound, dear friend. I have never quite put the puzzle pieces together in the way that you have and it certainly makes sense to me, but I fear Ironhide will refuse to see the connection."

"Because he doesn't want to, Optimus. To Ironhide, willingly or not, Thundercracker not only betrayed the Autobots when he sided with the Decepticons, but he also betrayed Ironhide's friendship as well."

"Do you think he killed her, Ratchet?" Optimus asked quietly, the darkness slowly embracing the desert scene before him. Off in the distance a coyote began to cry, adding to the loneliness of the landscape and the solemnity of the question asked. "Do you think he intended to kill Chromia?"

"No, Optimus, I don't. But I have been wrong before; only time will tell and if Ironhide continues acting the way he has, I think we may find out the answer to that question real soon." Ratchet then turned to leave. "I believe I'm going to go and enjoy these last brittle moments of solitude. Will you be coming inside, Optimus?" he inquired.

"I believe I may stay out here and wait for Starscream's arrival. I wouldn't want him to receive the same welcoming party that we gave Thundercracker and Skywarp," Optimus replied, a wry smile pulling at his lip components.

"Understandable, Prime," Ratchet said, grinning in return.

"I'll notify you of his arrival. Would you please ensure that Skywarp and Thundercracker are aware as well, if Starscream doesn't contact them first."

"It will be done, Prime. Good night," Ratchet said, disappearing into the warm corridors of the base.

"Good night, old friend," Optimus murmured, more to himself than his departing medic. Ratchet had certainly left him with some deep things to ponder. It was one reason Optimus enjoyed conversations with the CMO. Ratchet had a tendency to go beyond all the nuances and reveal the real issues that needed to be considered. And as Ratchet had subtly indicated, it wasn't a matter of _if_Ironhide and Thundercracker would fight, but it would be a matter of _when_.

* * *

Meanwhile back in the med bay, Thundercracker and Dezba were tucked into its far corner, recuperating from the week's earlier events. Sometime during the past few hours, Thundercracker had removed his hand from around Dezba's body; she now lay quietly against his cockpit, flat on her stomach, her good arm tucked under her chin. He, on the other hand, lay sprawled across the floor, head resting against the wall with his chin tucked into his chest. Warm air wafted from his intakes as he cycled fresh air every few minutes. The dull hum of cooling fans and other circuitry were the only other sounds in the room.

While the two gave the appearance of peaceful sleep, the reality playing within both of their dreams was a completely different ballpark. One was reliving a nightmare; the other watched from the sidelines as if she were a ghost.

_A dark, navy blue Cybertronian jet streaked through the lower atmosphere of Cybertron. He needed to catch up with her, he needed to tell her not to follow through with this suicidal plan, orders or not. The whole thing reeked with 'set-up'._

_Finally he saw it, the bright, twin glow of afterburners shining through the smoke. In a flash of blazing blue and orange flame, he lit his own burners and began to quickly close the gap. As he pulled up to her three o'clock, Thundercracker gently knocked wingtips with the crimson-colored wings of the other jet._

"_Solarflare, please land. We need to talk."_

"_Not now, TC. Can't you see I've got a mission to complete?"_

"_That's what we need to talk about. Land, now!"_

"_Bossy much?" _

_Thundercracker gave a disparaging growl._

"_OK, OK. I'll land! What flew up your thrusters and malfunctioned?"_

_The brightly-colored Seeker femme landed gracefully in a small clearing amidst the destruction of one of Cybertron's many small cities. She landed in a crouch, hands out before her. Thundercracker landed in a similar manner just to her fore. Solarflare slowly stood, purple optics filled with confusion as she regarded her brother. She had never seen him this agitated before; something must have really crossed his wiring in order for him to have pursued her all this way._

"_Now, what is so all-fired important that you __**had **__to interrupt my mission?"_

"_Don't go," he said simply._

"_That's it? 'Don't go'? You chased me half way around Cybertron and into Decepticon territory to tell me 'don't go?'" She snorted derisively through her vents and waved her hand dismissively. "I'm outta here."_

_Before she could take-off, Thundercracker reached out and grasped her arm, his massive hand enveloping her delicate limb and holding her fast._

"_I said, 'don't go,'" he repeated quietly._

"_Where do you get off telling me what to do?" Anger flashing in her purple optics._

"_Because I'm your brother, that's why!" he replied with equal intensity._

"_Exactly! Brother not father, therefore you have no right to order me around! My superiors get that privilege!"_

"_Solarflare, I'm tellin' you don't do it! Something isn't right with this set-up. It could be a trap."_

"_Look, I know you're looking out for me, Thundercracker; you wouldn't be a good brother if you didn't. But I'm a fully upgraded Seeker now; I need to make my own decisions and I need to follow my superior's orders, now you can either help me or not. That's your call."_

_Thundercracker reached around with his other hand and grasped Solarflare's other arm. He held her at arm's length and studied those fervent purple optics. He could see there was no changing her mind. She was out to prove that a femme Seeker could complete tasks just as dangerous as her male counterparts. She was not backing down._

_He gave a long sigh. "Alright, 'Flare. We'll do this together," he finally said, relenting to her iron will. She was his sister and he would never forgive himself if something happened to her on this mission._

_She nodded her head with gratitude, and then quite unpredictably, she leaped into his arms and gave the mech a large hug, her thrustered heels dangling a few feet above the ground. "Thank you so much, TC! Doing this mission means so much to me. You're the best brother ever!"_

_Thundercracker shifted uncomfortably with this very unsoldier-like behavior. "Well, if we're going to do this, we better get going before a patrol flies by and spots us," he suggested, peeling his younger sister off his frame and preparing for take-off._

_Together the two Seekers fired their thrusters, a large cloud of metallic grit and dust surrounding their heels. In a blast of brilliant flame they transformed and blasted off into the coming night._

_The attack came so suddenly, so swiftly—it had to have been preplanned; there was no other way to think about it. They had flown straight into their waiting claws. _

_Thundercracker and Solarflare had flown low over the land in order to avoid detection from the Decepticon Seekers in the upper atmosphere. Solarflare had planned the route meticulously; there was to be no known Decepticon patrols. As they flew through one of the steeper canyons, energy nets seemed to materialize out of thin air._

_The energy-sapping netting pulled the two Seekers to the ground; a harsh tug caused them to nose down and over, crashing into the unforgiving metallic ground upside down. He heard her groan painfully, saw the energon begin to coat the canyon's floor. They couldn't transform; the netting leeched their energy making them nearly immobile. His wings ached something terrible; he was injured as well, but at the moment he was more concerned for Solarflare._

_Heavy footsteps shook the ground on which they lay and then he heard the voice. It was a voice that struck fear into the spark of many an Autobot, a voice that once gave assurance and confidence, but now instilled terror and dread. But for Thundercracker, the voice confirmed his worst fears._

"_Well now, Thundercracker. I must say this is a pleasant surprise. We were expecting only Solarflare for this 'meeting', but you are more than welcome to join in," the voice of Megatron cut into the night like an energon blade through armor. Thundercracker could hear various other mechs snicker and laugh all around him. The blue Seeker had been right; it had been an ambush, but he wished he had never been more wrong. _

_The next scene flashed to Thundercracker being restrained by two unknown Decepticons, his sister was bound to a wall before him. A mech he had seen several times back in Vos leaned against the room's far corner. His powerful arms were crossed over his cockpit; he regarded the scene before him with indiscernible, red optics. Starscream. That was the flyer's name._

_Megatron paced ominously between the two captives. His optics were glowing a deep, malignant maroon. He stopped before Solarflare and grasped her fine chin with his claws, forcing her to look into his face. The massive Decepticon leader almost dwarfed the Seeker femme, but her purple optics burned with defiance. _

"_Two for the price of one," the leader growled softly. "How convenient."_

"_Leave her alone!" Thundercracker snarled, lunging against the Cons pinioning his arms. As fast as a cracking whip, Megatron snapped around and backhanded the navy Seeker. Thundercracker's head snapped around due to the force of the blow; he felt the metal that composed his helmet buckle and bend with the impact. Vaguely, he heard Solarflare cry out angrily and then heard the mocking laugh of the Decepticon leader. Megatron then stepped up into Thundercracker's face and smirked evilly._

"_By coming with your sibling, you've saved me a great deal of trouble, Thundercracker."_

_The blue Seeker raised his head defiantly, but said nothing._

"_You should have joined the Decepticons from the outset, Seeker," Megatron said softly in his face. _

"_I would rather crash and burn in the Smelting Pools than follow you, Megatron," Thundercracker rumbled in return._

"_As would I, you walking slagheap!" Thundercracker heard his sister's retort. He grinned inwardly to himself._

"_Silence!" Megatron snapped. He turned to Solarflare. "You have served your purpose, femme. Your life now rests in the hands of your brother."_

"_What are you talking about!?" Solarflare exclaimed, her optics now reflecting confusion and anger._

"_I thought it was obvious," Megatron replied. "You should have listened to your brother, femme. Some missions are just too good to be true."_

_The silence was suffocating. Solarflare's optics widened with surprise and then dimmed to a dark violet. "We were betrayed?" she asked softly, shock and hurt permeating her voice._

"_My, you are a smart one," Megatron sneered. "Did you really think that I would stand to let the Autobots keep one of the best Seekers in all of Cybertron?" He faced Thundercracker once more. "I'm willing to be generous Thundercracker. Join me and my Decepticons; swear an oath of allegiance and denounce your Autobot loyalty. If you do so, I will spare this pathetic collection of scrapmetal which is your sister. Refuse my offer and I will ensure you watch every last astrosecond of her death and it will not be quick, of that I can assure you. Your choice, Seeker."_

_It felt as if liquid nitrogen had been poured over his spark. How dare Megatron thrust such a repulsive decision on his shoulders!? His loyalty was to the Autobots, forever and always! But it was either betray his sister to her death and refuse to join or betray his faction to save her life. It was a lose-lose situation and Megatron knew it. And who was to say that Megatron would keep his word and spare Solarflare anyway, even if he did decide to join? He hung his head in defeat._

"_You promise you won't harm her?"_

"_Thundercracker! Don't do it! Don't worry about me!"_

"_I promise."_

_The blue jet sighed heavily, the air rattling his vents. "Very well, Megatron. If it means 'Flare is spared, then so be it."_

"_TC, NOOO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"_

"_Good." In a silver flash, the Decepticon leader had whirled on the femme and gripped her tightly by the throat. She gasped and struggled against Megatron's iron grip. Her panicked cries filling the room._

"_Thundercracker, help me, PLEASE!"_

"_NO! Let her go Megatron!"_

"_Oh, I think not, Thundercracker!"_

"_YOU SWORE TO ME!" he roared. Anger raced through his systems. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, Thundercracker swung his arms together, causing the two Cons that held them to crash into each other. Reaching up with his right hand, he disengaged his left wing. In a fluid motion, the wingtip morphed and flowed until it resembled a fierce sword, glowing and crackling with blue energy. In two swift movements both Decepticon mechs were beheaded. Just as Thundercracker turned to face the tyrant, an audio-shattering scream pierced the room, causing the remaining mechs to flinch from its intensity._

_Thundercracker stood staring in horror, his sword upraised over his right shoulder, ready to strike. There before him, Megatron held Solarflare aloft by her throat in one hand; in the other a nasty conglomeration of wiring and other circuitry dangled from his claws like spaghetti, energon dripping indiscriminately to the floor, but in the midst of it all was a pulsing, blue orb—it was Solarflare's spark._

_Her body convulsed one, two times before finally going limp; the colors on her armor fading to a dull gray._

_Megatron glared at Thundercracker, triumph in his optics. "Rule number one in the Decepticon army—never trust the word of another Decepticon." Cruelty burned in his optics as he cast the lifeless body of Solarflare to the side. Walking up to the stunned Seeker, he punched Thundercracker across the face, sending the flyer to his knees and his sword sailing. More alarms went off and lights flashed across his HUD display as Megatron followed up with a vicious kick to his chest, rupturing his armor. Then the beating stopped and Megatron knelt down beside him and whispered into his audios, "Rule Number Two—Family only makes you weak…weak…weak…weak…"_

With a start, Dezba jerked awake, cold sweat rolling down her body. Her ribs ached horribly and her arm throbbed in painful pulses, but that wasn't what quite woke her. The dream had been so vivid, so real, the emotions so raw. It hadn't been like anything she had envisioned previously. There had been no mist, no mysterious figure that gave her puzzling phrases to mull over; it was almost as if she had just witnessed someone else's nightmare…

Slowly she pushed herself up onto her knees, wincing as the various injuries protested her movements. Here wide, hazel eyes traveled up and stopped on Thundercracker's face. His optics were already blazing with life. She watched the delicate rods and spheres within his optics twist and rotate as he focused on her form.

Slowly she crawled along Thundercracker's chest plating, following the curvature of his cockpit. When she reached his face, Dezba turned and sat in the crook between his neck plating and his wing joints. She wasn't too sure that she should be doing this, but he hadn't given an objection yet. Once she was settled comfortably against his neck, she leaned against him and gave a tired sigh.

"I didn't disturb you, did I?" he rumbled softly, one large red optic regarding her with mild concern.

"Depends," she replied vaguely, studying her new cast. "How long have you been awake?" she inquired.

"No more than a couple kliks at the most. Your movement woke me completely."

"I had a dream, a very vivid dream," she said, almost whispering her words. "You and this one other robot were in it." She felt him stiffen beneath her.

"What did this other robot look like?" he asked almost hesitantly.

"I…I think it was female. It looked feminine to me. She or it resembled you, only slighter in build, thinner wings and the coloring was real vibrant; I think it wore a bright shade of red, orange and silver."

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than she felt her guardian shudder. The sudden movement caused her to cling to his armor, her one good arm snaking into a crevice and gripping the wires within.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern lacing her voice. "TC? Tell me what's wrong." It was the first time Dezba had ever referred to him using his nickname, but either the Seeker didn't hear or he didn't care. His trembling eased and Dezba slowly relaxed her grip on his cables. He shifted his bulk, sitting up straighter against the wall. With his left hand he reached up and gently grasped the girl and brought her before his optics. For the first time since she had known the Decepticon, Dezba saw pain and sadness within those deep, crimson depths. She could feel the whirlpool of emotions swirling within his processor; she could sense that the being she had described had some sort of a strong connection with her guardian. Amidst the swirling emotions she was able to glean certain snippets of some very familiar images, images she herself had just dreamed; this both frightened her and intrigued her.

"You dreamed of her too, didn't you?"

Thundercracker didn't reply at first, but then slowly turned his head from her and shuttered his optics. "I did."

Before either of them could say anything more, a flash of brilliant purple light illuminated the med bay. Skywarp materialized within the large room, two large containers held in each hand. He cocked his head to one side and quirked an optic ridge as he regarded the curious scene before him—Thundercracker sitting casually against the wall, the human female sitting within his wingmate's palm, a somewhat startled expression on her features.

"I'm not interrupting anything here, am I?" Skywarp asked innocently, a somewhat sardonic glint in his ruby-colored optics.

Thundercracker snorted derisively, the old fire returning to his optics. "Can it, Warp," he growled warningly, not really in the mood to put up with Skywarp's sarcasm.

Skywarp shrugged his wings, but the devilish glint in his eye had yet to disperse. "Hey, you're the one that appears to be in deep thought, not me. I thought I'd bring ya something to refuel," he raised one hand to indicate one of the containers.

Thundercracker took one of the containers that Skywarp offered him and drew a long draught. Dezba watched him with a curious look in her hazel eyes; she had never seen him "refuel" before. "What is that?" she asked, peering over the edge of the container and watching the swirling eddies in the pink liquid.

"Energon," Thundercracker replied gruffly. He watched her eyebrows knit together in confusion and smirked behind another gulp of the viscous fluid. "It's liquid energy. The best form of energy in order to sustain our critical systems."

"Oh," she said simply, not fully understanding, but her curiosity sated for the time being. She could sense that the large, blue Seeker was still disturbed by their shared vision. _What's bothering you? _she asked telepathically.

_Need you ask? _came his snappish reply.

_Someone's a little grumpy! I was just trying to be civil!_

_Save it._

_How about shove it!? Up your afterburners!_

_It would be so easy to crush you right now._

_You've gone through too much trouble to get me back to just turn around and kill me. Counterproductive, don't you think?_

_Who said I was going to kill you? Maybe I was just going to squeeze you until you passed out again, therefore giving me some peace of mind!_

_OK, OK! I'll shut up now. But this isn't over; I want to know why that dream upset you and for that matter, why we both had it to begin with._

_Another time, another place._

While this conversation was taking place, neither of the two discussers noticed Skywarp come briefly to attention, nor did they notice that several seconds later, the purple and black Seeker was trying to capture their notice.

"Hey! Are you guys even listening to me?" Skywarp growled, waving a black and purple hand in front of his blue wingmate.

"Huh, Oh sorry, Warp. _Internal _conversation," Thundercracker said, leveling a hard glare at the human in his hand. Dezba stuck her tongue out in retaliation. She winced slightly as Thundercracker half-heartedly clenched his hand.

"I don't even want to know," Skywarp moaned, holding his face in one hand.

"So what were you saying?" Dezba inquired, trying to draw the conversation off of herself and Thundercracker.

Skywarp tinkered with the back of his helm, trying to recall the exact subject of the medic's transmission. Suddenly his optics brightened as he remembered said transmission. "Oh, yeah. We've got company."

"Please tell me it's Starscream," Thundercracker said beseechingly.

"Nope. Autobot reinforcements."


	20. Honor Reclaimed

**A/N: YES! Finals are over and I'm officially graduated!! *Jumps up and down screaming like a mad-woman* With that said, updates should be a little more regular for both stories now that I will have some free-time. So, please enjoy this rather angsty chapter. I hope it further clarifies the somewhat hazy events of TC's past. And don't forget to review. I also proof-read and spell-checked, but alas, I am still human and may have missed some things so please forgive me. On with the story…!!**

**Chapter 20: Honor Reclaimed**

Thundercracker snarled in aggravation. "You've got to be kidding me! The last thing I want to deal with now is even more slagging Autobots. Ironhide more than makes up for the whole fragging army!"

"So just what is it between you two anyways?" Skywarp inquired. "It was obvious even to me that there's some bad energon between you two and not the typical Con vs. Bot attitude."

"Long story."

"What part of your life isn't a long story?" Dezba inquired, a sarcastic undertone in her voice.

Skywarp's optics flashed with humor. "I'm with her on this one."

Thundercracker just snarled in aggravation as he climbed to his feet. He clenched his hand tightly around the girl as he rose then loosened his grip once he stabilized. She grunted in surprise at the rough treatment, but decided not to protest.

"I had hoped Starscream would have been here by now," he grumbled to his wingmate. He raised his hand and deposited Dezba on his shoulder, just next to the large shoulder vent. She quickly grasped onto the edge of the vent in order to keep her balance as the enormous Con underneath her shifted and moved about restlessly. Her ribs and arm throbbed dully with pain, but she wasn't about to ask to stay in the med bay alone.

"Actually he's not that far behind the new Autoscum. He contacted me while I was standing around outside."

"So what's taking that slagger so long?"

"You know how Screamer operates. Let's just say he's instituting a back-up plan in case things get a little tight around here," Skywarp replied, a very familiar mischievous glint in his optics.

Thundercracker raised an optic ridge, but decided not to pursue the subject. Things would reveal themselves in time, he was sure and he was all too familiar with Starscream's hidden agenda complex.

Together the two Seekers walked out of the med bay and headed towards the entrance of the Autobot base. Neither had a desire to remain indoors any longer than necessary. As they strode down the corridor, Dezba crouched on Thundercracker's shoulder, tightly gripping the shoulder vent while her body swayed gently with rocking motion of the blue Con's stride. She really didn't know what to make of these new proceedings, other than what she could feel through her mind link. Thundercracker was tense and even a little anxious. She didn't know much about the Autobots, but she had witnessed enough to know that almost all of them, with the exception of the Doctor and the leader, despised her guardian with a deep, unrelenting hatred. She decided that it was time to know what in world had happened in her absence.

"So what exactly is going on here, TC? Why all of a sudden have you guys decided to meet, peacefully I might add, with your enemies?" she asked.

Thundercracker sighed heavily as he prepared to answer her. "It appears that the Autobots may have some information regarding the humans that captured you. Starscream suspects that these humans have an agenda against all Cybertronians, including their Autobot allies, but to what end we do not know. One thing about Starscream, he's always believed in keeping his enemies close." Thundercracker turned his head slightly to regard the human on his shoulder. "I also sense that you know why these insects are so intent on your capture."

Dezba felt all the blood drain from her face; she knew exactly what Sector Seven was up to. "Uh, yeah…about that…I think I could shed some light on the subject for you guys."

"I thought so." Thundercracker didn't say anything more and Skywarp was once again remaining uncharacteristically quiet. They walked down the final corridor and approached the large opening that led out into the cool desert night. They could hear the quiet murmurings of the other mechs as they drew closer to the exit.

The deep voice of Optimus Prime drifted through the open doorway. "There is something I must tell you before you enter the base…"

At that moment both Thundercracker and Skywarp stepped through the open door and into the dark desert night. All the Autobots instantly tensed, with the two new arrivals drawing their weapons and training them on the two Seekers. Dezba shrank down behind Thundercracker's neck, seeking as much shelter as she could muster. She wasn't exactly in the greatest condition to make a stand anyway. She felt her guardian straighten proudly, his wings tensed and she heard the soft thrum as his weapons activated.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with what you were about to tell us, would it Optimus?" a mostly black and tan Autobot asked the leader. The large pistol-like weapon in his hand did not waver.

"Unfortunately, you are correct, Prowl. Please lower your weapons. Thundercracker and Skywarp are observing a cease-fire agreement until negotiations have been made," Prime said quietly, stepping closer to his Second-in-Command.

Cold, gas-fire blue optics scrutinized the two Seekers. A small twitch of movement drew Prowl's attention to Thundercracker's helm. His companion, Hound, saw the movement as well.

"Are we allowing Decepticons to keep humans as pets now, Prime?" the dark green Autobot asked, distrust and suspicion filling his optics.

"Hey! I'm no one's pet, Bolt-Breath! I'm with him because I _want _to be! The sooner you walking jalopies get that through your metal-plated brains, the better!"

Dezba's sudden outburst took most of the Autobots by surprise. Ratchet was trying his best to not burst out laughing and Thundercracker and Skywarp both exchanged small grins with each other.

_That's telling them, Dezba, _Thundercracker commended mentally.

_Thanks. Let's just say I want this record straight from the get-go._

Prowl, Hound, there is much that you need to be debriefed on concerning recent events," Optimus said, trying to diffuse the tense situation, but another 'Bot had other ideas.

"So, if the human has chosen to side with the Decepticons, then that makes her a traitor to her own kind," Ironhide growled almost too low for anyone to here. "Isn't it funny how traitors seem to flock together--first Starscream, then you, Thundercracker, and now your human _pet."_

Dead silence fell amongst all those present. Dezba suddenly found herself in Thundercracker's hand. He gently placed her on the ground and gave her a telepathic command. _Go to the other two humans._

She glanced over at Sam and Michaela who were both standing beside Bumblebee; the small, yellow scout was standing perpendicular to the Seekers and next to the entrance. _But…_she began to mentally protest, but was quickly cut off.

_NOW!_

Without another word, Dezba hobbled over to Sam and Michaela who quickly reached out and helped her to the side.

"What's going on?" Michaela whispered to the other girl.

"I'm not sure," Dezba replied, "but I do know TC's royally _pissed _right now and it looks as if our little cease-fire might be coming to a violent end."

"Aw man, this doesn't look good, this doesn't look good at all," Sam said, adding in his own two cents. He ran both hands through his dark hair as he watched the two Cybertronians step forward from their respective sides.

"Who are you to judge me, Ironhide?" Thundercracker growled.

"Who are you to take an innocent's life!?" the black Topkick said venomously.

"Optimus? Are you not going to do something?" Prowl asked his superior. The Autobots were at a loss of what to do. If they fired their weapons it would violate the cease-fire, but Ironhide and Thundercracker were making it pretty clear that upholding the cease-fire was the last thing on their processors.

"No, I'm not, Prowl. This confrontation has been a long time coming, even before we were here on Earth. I intend to let them settle their differences here and now so we won't have problems later on."

Prowl seemed slightly baffled by this response, but accepted it nonetheless.

"Ironhide, Thundercracker, I am aware of the conflict between the two of you," Prime announced loudly in the calm desert night. Both mechs paused in their posturing to listen to the Autobot leader; however, neither's optics deviated from the other.

"What are you getting at, Optimus?" Ironhide said lowly.

"Settle this fight according to the Cybertronian Code of Conduct. I know that the two of you are honorable mechs." At that statement there were snorts of disbelief from the assembled Autobots and even Sam, who was quickly punched in the shoulder by an irate Indian girl.

"Enough, Autobots!" Optimus commanded, his optics focusing on each of his men with a seriousness few had witnessed. "I will permit the two of you to settle your differences so long as you both honor the Code."

A small period of silence settled over the assembled mechs as everyone tried to process what Optimus had said. At this point, Optimus's suggestion was lost on everyone except to Ratchet and the two combatants facing each other. For Prowl and Hound, this was certainly the oddest welcoming either had received to date.

"Very well, Prime. I accept these conditions," Thundercracker rumbled, his voice deep and booming in the cold desert air.

Ironhide nodded his acceptance. "Agreed."

Optimus nodded his head once. "Autobots and Decepticon, please stand back. Bumblebee, tend to the humans. Under no circumstances is anyone to interfere." Optimus focused on the two mechs now standing in the center of a large circle. "As witness to this proceeding, you will both fight until one or the other is no longer able to stand. The use of weapons is prohibited; this will be hand-to-hand combat only. You may begin."

"I've been waiting a long time for this, traitor," Ironhide snarled. He slowly began to try and circle the taller Seeker, his blue optics continuously searching for an opening.

"You know nothing of what I've been through!" the blue jet growled in return. Thundercracker's wings visibly trembled. His optics were blazing infernos as he warily watched his foe.

"I know that you killed her! And that's all I need to know!"

"Then you are a fool! We were once friends, Ironhide. Do you disregard your allies as easily as you have disregarded me?"

"Only those who turn on their own and murder the innocent!"

"I did _not mean to kill Chromia!" _Thundercracker snapped.

"Oh, really?" Ironhide sneered, still circling. "Just like you didn't mean lead Solarflare to her death?"

With a roar of fury, the blue Seeker lunged at his black foe, his massive fist connecting with the side of Ironhide's face and sending the black Topkick reeling. The Autobot fell to one knee and raised a hand up to his metallic face. The metal was crumpled and dented from the force of the punch. He grinned wickedly, "Looks like I struck a sensor."

"It'll be the last thing you strike!" Thundercracker retorted angrily, closing quickly for another strike. With a speed that seemed impossible for a mech his size, Ironhide lashed out with one his legs, his intent to take the Seeker's legs out from underneath him.

Thundercracker caught the maneuver none too soon. He leaped high into the air as Ironhide's leg swept underneath him. The black Autobot then rolled quickly to the right and was back on his own two feet in a flash. Thundercracker landed with a ground-shaking _thoom_, his avian-like legs bending to absorb the concussion. He ducked a vicious right hook as Ironhide pressed his attack. He countered the next punch by raising his forearm, deflecting the blow up and away from his helm. At the same time, Thundercracker raised one of his powerful legs and kicked Ironhide square in the grill. A shower of sparks and the protesting squeal of metal on metal followed the resounding blow. Ironhide stumbled back, momentarily stunned by the force of the kick. He didn't have time to recuperate. Thundercracker was on the black truck like a bad case of cosmic rust. In a flurry of blue-black metal, Thundercracker rained punch after punch on his black foe. Small pieces of metal and black enamel began to litter the desert floor.

Finally, Ironhide managed to get his defense up. He grabbed Thundercracker's left wrist and yanked the blue Seeker towards him forcefully. The move was completely unexpected. Thundercracker felt himself fall forward over his center of gravity. Ironhide anticipated this and ducked his shoulder into the Seeker. With a mighty heave and a grunt from the strain, the black Topkick flipped the massive Decepticon up and over his shoulder. Thundercracker landed in a cloud of grit and sand, his weight causing the immediate area to shudder. Suddenly an immense pain ripped through his left wing. Ironhide spitefully ground his heel into Thundercracker's wing, causing a white flash of pain to momentarily overload his CPU. The blue Seeker was barely aware of another's scream of pain.

Off to one side, Dezba grasped her head and stumbled back into Sam and Michaela. Both teenagers gently grabbed her by the shoulders and lowered her to the sandy earth, unsure of what exactly was happening. Ratchet took notice of this strange phenomenon as well, but at the moment was powerless to do anything about it. Like Optimus, he too believed that these two former friends needed to settle their differences. In very rare occurrences, sometimes a good brawl was the best way to heal festering wounds; plus, Thundercracker and Ironhide had never been mechs prone to talk, both being firm believers in actions speaking louder than words. Ironhide's voice shook the medic from his musings; he directed his bright, cerulean optics to the brawling pair.

"I_ watched _you shoot her, traitor!" Ironhide roared. He dug his heel deeper into the sensitive wing. The blue Seeker screeched in agony; he could feel the thin sheet metal begin to buckle, the wiring begin to snap.

Skywarp watched on angrily; there was nothing he could do to help his wingmate. He growled in frustration and began to pace back and forth restlessly. A small flash drew his attention followed by a brief internal com transmission. He stopped his pacing long enough to listen to the transmission. He glanced out again into the open desert behind Prime; a very vague figure stood approximately 500 yards away from the scene, watching silently. He felt slight relief run through his systems. Backup had arrived.

"I've…already told you, I didn't mean to kill her!" Thundercracker ground out between flashes of intense pain. "You haven't even heard my side of the story." He felt the pain lessen marginally. "You convicted me long before you could prove my guilt," he spat. "And here I always believed Autobots upheld principles of justice and fairness!"

"Don't lecture me on Autobot morals! You, the traitor that broke every moral obligation you swore to uphold!"

"I had no choice in the matter! Did it never occur to you that the Council may have been the ones that betrayed you, just as they betrayed me!?"

With sudden renewed vigor, the blue Seeker twisted his torso around and punched the black Autobot in the knee joint with his right fist. Ironhide groaned in surprise and pain; he stumbled back and prepared for the next assault. Thundercracker was on his feet in a flash. He faked a left hook and then delivered a vicious uppercut into Ironhide's chin. It was quickly followed by a right roundhouse punch. Ironhide was a great warrior and an excellent fighter, but his specialty had always been with weaponry. When it came to hand-to-hand combat, the black Autobot could hold his own beautifully, but there had always been one mech slightly better than him. He was facing that mech right now. Seekers had never been overly fond of the ground, but Thundercracker had taken that potential weakness and turned it into a strength. He had focused ruthlessly on his ground combat skills until he was as lithe and dangerous on the earth as he was in the air. Another reason Megatron had wanted the blue jet in his ranks so badly.

The blows were becoming more and more forceful; Thundercracker could feel his opponent weakening, his defenses slackening. He pressed his advantage to the full. He backhanded his former friend and ally and watched dispassionately as one blue optic flashed and then died, knocked off-line from the force of the blow. Two more solid punches had the Autobot stumbling on his feet; one vicious roundhouse kick spun Ironhide around and forced him to his knees. Bits of metal flew from Ironhide's body in a sick artificial rain. As one final blow to both ego and stamina, Thundercracker brutally kicked the Topkick square in the chest, sending the weapons specialist flat on his back, moaning in pain. Ironhide tried to rise, but could not summon the energy to do so. He collapsed back into the dust, waiting for Thundercracker's gloating words.

The blue Seeker entered his staticy vision, but instead of a sneering, haughty expression donning his features, to Ironhide's surprise he saw sadness and remorse. It was not what he expected. "You say I betrayed you and the other Autobots, but can you imagine how betrayed I felt when not a single rescue mission was attempted to bring me and Solarflare back?" Bitterness permeated his vocals as he spoke each word. "You! All of you," he said pointing an accusing claw first at Ironhide, then at the others, "believed every bare-nut lie the Council uttered! Senator Ratbat especially! He had been working with Megatron all along, feeding you false information and _you _accepted it like a sparkling takes energon from its dam! Solarflare and I were fooled just like the rest of you! But because we were Seekers, you doubted our obligations, doubted our honor! Our last mission together was a set-up, a trap for Megatron to use her against me, to get me to submit to him! I knew what it was from the start, but I went anyway to keep my sister from falling into harm. And do you know what happened anyway?" Thundercracker scowered the crowd with his flame-filled optics. Centuries of hurt, betrayal, and suffering showed through those blood red lenses.

Thundercracker answered his own rhetorical question. "I had no choice but to vow to serve _him _in exchange for Solarflare's life. Does that make me evil in your optics? Does trying to save the last member of my clan, my family, turn me into a sparkles brute? I watched as Megatron ripped her spark from her chest, crushed her sanctity between his servos like her spark was no more than useless quartz between his fingers. He imprisoned me for centa-cycles; he taunted me, tortured me, and even tried to reprogram me. Not once did I hear or was told of a rescue attempt. Instead you swallowed the Council's evidence like candied energon. They told you I had defected, killed my sister to keep her from returning to you. Tell me _Autobots, _what evidence did Ratbat present you with? What overwhelming truth did that slagheap give you that defied my years of loyal service to the Aerial Elite Guard?"

Once again, silence filled the desert night once more. This was the story Optimus and Ratchet had hoped, but ironically not wanted to hear. Each had had their suspicions as to what had happened; each had hoped what they had been told by the Council wasn't true, but their prime witness had disappeared into enemy clutches before any of them could foster a response. All they had been given was circumstantial evidence at best and all of it pointed at Thundercracker with an accusing finger. Optimus broke the uncomfortable silence first.

"Senator Ratbat showed us optical evidence of you swearing allegiance to Megatron along with a few datapads confirming sightings of you flying with the Decepticons. You are right, Thundercracker, some of us were quick to judge you based on superfluous evidence, but unfortunately your prolonged absence only confirmed our worst fears instead of absolving them. For this, you have my deepest apologies, for whatever it may be worth now."

"It's not much, of that I can assure you," Thundercracker replied with vehemence. "After so long, I realized you, the noble Autobots, had forsaken me, left me to die a prisoner among the Decepticons. At that point, bitterness and hate filled my spark; since you believed me a traitor, I wanted you to feel the full extent of betrayal and all the pain and agony with it. My resentment poisoned me for the longest time. It was what Megatron had hoped would happen. Since he and Starscream were the only one's present at the time of Solarflare's termination and my capture, no other Cons knew of my connection with the Elite Guard. Any documentation connecting me with you was destroyed and those few Autobots that did know of my former allegiances were terminated, but I see Ratbat missed a few," he narrowed his hellfire optics at Ratchet. My connection with the Autobots was lost to time and death while I rusted away as prisoner, allowing my bitterness and resentment to slowly eat me from the inside out and turn me into the monster Megatron wanted me to become. He knew exactly how to manipulate my emotions and use them against me."

As Thundercracker spoke, the Autobots listened with a mixture of shock, disgust, and even anger. The younger among them, Bumblebee, Hound, and even Prowl had only ever known and seen Thundercracker as one of the most ruthless Decepticons on the battlefield, a walking, flying nightmare that one counted oneself lucky to escape with their spark chamber intact. This was a lot of information to process.

Dezba now fully understood everything that had occurred within their dream. It had been a haunting flashback and she had seen every horrid moment right down to his sister's termination. Through their connection, she felt Thundercracker's emotions swirl and boil around her like a frothy, mountain river—anger, remorse, sadness, bitterness and angst. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that what he spoke was true; something deep within her confirmed it.

"As the War progressed and began to span millennia after millennia, my bitterness and hate waned with the passing stellar cycles. I slowly lost my conviction to fight, my desire to inflict suffering, but I couldn't stop, not then. Starscream knew of my past and would not have hesitated to tell the other Decepticons around me of my origins. I held high rank in the Decepticon army and as cowardly as it may sound, I had no desire to put myself in danger of being assassinated by another Con. So, I continued the charade; next to Starscream, Blackout and Megatron, I was the one of most powerful soldiers in their army. As long as I gave no one a reason to attack my authority, those above and below me respected and feared me. I had entrapped myself. I could no longer return to you as a wayward soldier, for I did commit treason, just not during the time and place you first believed. I know longer wanted to fight for the Decepticons, but I had little choice but to continue."

"And what of Chromia?" Ironhide spat, fluids dripping between his mouth components. "I watched you raise your cannons and shoot her square in the back! How do you explain that?"

Thundercracker grew silent for several long seconds. During this time, Dezba shot a quick glance over to Skywarp. The dark purple and black mech had said nothing at all during this whole proceeding. His optics were bright and unreadable. She knew Skywarp was the closest thing to a friend Thundercracker had had in the Decepticon army. How did his friend take his wingmate being a former Autobot Elite Aerial Guard?

Finally, Thundercracker lowered his optics and gave Ironhide one of the most scathing glares any had ever seen. It made the old Autobot warrior feel as if his face plating were about to spontaneously combust. "It's true that for a time the only thing I desired was to see an Autobot suffer at my hands, but you and Chromia were never among my targets. Of all the Autobots, I had hoped _you _would have figured everything out. We went through the Academy together, Ironhide. You were the single mech who had spent more time with me than any other. I always thought that if there was one mech who wouldn't swallow that slag-load of lies about me, it would have been you, but it appears I did not know my friend as well as I thought I did."

For the first time since the meeting, Ironhide turned his single-optic gaze away from Thundercracker.

"It was the Battle of Tyger Pax, wasn't it _friend? _You were fighting Barricade and Chromia, your sparkmate, was fending off Dropkick. I was Tactical Commander of the 2nd Air Raid Squadron and wanted more than anything for this Primus-damned war to be over with. I was leading a strafing and bombing run over the field when I saw the two of you fighting your respective opponents. What you didn't see was Dreadwing warping behind your precious Chromia to take her by surprise. I knew how much she meant to you, so I tried to take a pot-shot at that coward before he did her in. Problem was she saw him a moment after I did, but I had already fired my cannons. She turned unexpectedly and took the full force of my attack. It was an accident pure and simple; I cannot phrase it any better than that, so believe what you wish."

Thundercracker stepped away from his fallen opponent, permitting Ironhide enough room to stand. Thundercracker's armor was dented and chipped and several small fuel lines dripped fluid onto the ground. His left wing was crumpled and torn and hurt like the Pit, but surprisingly it was still airworthy. It had been a tough fight, but he had won. Now all he wanted to do was to put as much distance between himself and the Autobots as possible. He turned and focused his stare on the small, black-haired human standing next to Bumblebee. Dezba obeyed his unspoken request and slowly walked towards her unlikely guardian; Sam and Michaela didn't object this time. But before Dezba stepped onto his proffered hand, she stopped and looked at each and every individual standing in the large semi-circle. She gave a deep sigh and said, "For what it's worth, he speaks the truth. You may not believe me, but I bore witness to the events of his capture and I know what he has told you is as close to the truth as you'll ever come."

"I believe both of you," Ratchet spoke. Optimus nodded his head in agreement, "As do I, old friend."

Thundercracker narrowed his optics at Optimus's statement. "'Actions speak louder than words,' Optimus Prime."

With that he scooped Dezba up into his hands and placed her gingerly within his cockpit. He paused to spare a glance at his wingmate, but was only met with hostile red optics; Thundercracker turned away. The mighty Seeker took three huge leaps before transforming in mid-air and speeding off to greet the desert stars. His signature sonic boom shattered the desert night as he himself became a speck in a star-studded sky.

"Shouldn't one of us follow him in case the humans try to take the Collins girl?" Bumblebee asked. But a new, hauntingly familiar voice answered his question from the depths of the night.

"That will not be necessary."

Several of the Autobots whirled to find the Decepticon leader himself slowly and haughtily approaching from behind Optimus Prime.

"_You! _How long have you been here!?" Hound demanded, beginning to draw his rifle.

"Long enough," came the succinct reply. He turned to face Optimus. "I believe you have been expecting me?"

"Indeed," Optimus rumbled. "Are you sure we should not concern ourselves with Thundercracker and Dezba's absence?"

Starscream narrowed his optics and a devilish smirk pulled at his mouth components. "It will be no consequence, Prime. They will be well looked after, not to mention that though he is a pathetic, sentimental scrapheap, Thundercracker can more than look after himself in these trying times. He will return when his circuits cool off."

Optimus did not look convinced, but he knew better than to push Starscream for details. He looked at his assembled Autobots and began to explain things. "Starscream is here per request. He wishes to meet with us concerning the recent events at the Boneyard and our new human friend's connection with Sector Seven. Both sides have agreed to a cease-fire during these proceedings. It will be observed. Understood?"

A chorus of "yes sir" echoed through the night.

"Good. As strange as it may sound to you, Starscream and I both have reason to suspect that Sector Seven is out to target _all _Cybertronians, Autobot and Decepticon alike."

"With so few of us remaining, it would be foolish to continue this incessant fighting while another enemy, small though they are, positions itself to potentially eradicate us," Starscream added.

"We will go inside to begin our discussions. Ratchet, please attend to Ironhide."

"Yes, sir Optimus. Come on you old fragger," the medic jabbed. "Let's get you to the med-bay. I never thought I'd live to see the day you were beaten in a fist-fight."

"He's the only one that has ever beaten me hand-to-hand and I would like to keep it that way," Ironhide groused as he slowly rose from the dust with Ratchet's help.

I trust you will notify your Second when the time comes?" Optimus asked Starscream as they began to make their way inside the base.

"Affirmative. You know I am a mech of my word, Optimus," Starscream said oily . As much as Optimus had hoped for both sides to sit down and agree to end the War, he couldn't help but feel more than a little uneasy about Starscream heading up the Decepticon side of the negotiations. Just like his armor, things always had a way of turning a murky brownish-grey when the Seeker was involved.


	21. Yo Joe!

**A/N: It's been 21 chapters in the making but I finally got it in here; the Transformers finally meet the Joes! Whoo! Bet you thought I'd never get there, huh? Well neither did I! XD! Special thanks goes out to Starfire201 for her input. To all you other peoples out there (that have yet to review; you know who you are!)—reviews are deeply appreciated; I don't bite, I promise!! Actually how can I; I'm typing on a computer for goodness sakes!!**

**Chapter 21: Yo Joe!**

The velvety black night gently embraced the battered frame of a lone F-15 Eagle as it cruised along on a lonely flight path. Dezba stared up into the heavens admiring the jewel-like glimmer of the distant stars set in the dark facet of space. Thundercracker had remained silent since leaving the Autobot base, more or less allowing her thoughts to wander at will. And wander they did. Thundercracker's fight with Ironhide had been very revealing and very brutal. She had no idea how much pain and heartache the big, burly Decepticon had gone through; he had hidden it from her very well. And not just from her, but everyone else as well.

But she could empathize. She had hidden her pain too, when her father had died. It had been a rainy, thunderous evening. She and her mother had been home, patiently waiting for the return of her father. A grey, nondescript car had pulled up to the front door. She had been just a child, barely turned five years-old.

'_Mommy! Mommy! Daddy's home!' her childish voice rang with glee at the sight of the car. Five-year-old Dezba quickly sprinted from her upstairs bedroom, abandoning her dolls for a warm, strong hug from her father. She didn't understand why Daddy stayed gone for so long, but whenever he returned he always had pocketfuls of candy, a bagful of toys, and all the time in the world to play with her dollies until his job called him away again. She adored her father and loved to play with the shiny pieces of metal and colorful stripes attached to his shirt. He always wore them when he came home._

_She dashed down the stairs and scrambled into the kitchen, her face bright with anticipation. But Mommy wasn't hugging Daddy and the man at the door wasn't her father either. She stopped and stared wide-eyed and tried to peer between the stranger's legs for a glimpse of Daddy. Maybe he was still outside._

_She walked up to Mommy and pulled gently on her dress. But Mommy did not look down. Dezba stared as Mommy slowly raised her hands to her face and gasped slightly, it was then that Mommy began to cry._

'_Mommy?' She tugged again at her mother's dress. 'Mommy? Where's Daddy?"_

_Her mother didn't respond. Silvery tears continued to stream down her coppery face. The strange man turned on his heel and walked back to the car. She watched with wide, hazel eyes as the car drove away. But where was Daddy? Did he forget to get out of the car? Why was Mommy crying? Young Dezba tugged once more on her mother's dress, this time more insistently._

"_Mommy, you're scaring me. Where's Daddy at?"_

_Finally her mother turned to her and squatted down. She embraced Dezba fiercely, so tightly that her little daughter began to squirm uncomfortably._

"_Dess, Mommy needs to tell you something, OK?"_

_Little Dezba nodded her head slowly, her hazel eyes darting one last time to the still open kitchen door._

_Mommy gently placed both hands on her cheeks. "Dess, I'm…I'm…I'm afraid…Daddy…isn't…" She stifled a sob. "Dess, honey, Daddy…isn't coming…home." More tears spilled from Mommy's eyes; she pulled her daughter close and hugged her tightly, crying softly into the black tresses. _

_Dezba gently pushed herself back away from Mommy. Her greenish eyes were filled with questions._

"_Why Mommy?"_

_She watched as Mommy cried some more. This was scary. Mommy never cried. Something bad must have happened. Where was Daddy? He'd help Mommy. He'd make everything good again._

_Mommy drew in a long breath before speaking once again. "Dess, Daddy has… gone to be…with Jesus. He…he won't be…coming home."_

That was the day young Dezba Collins lost her childhood at the tender age of five-years-old. She had cried and cried until she couldn't cry anymore. When she had watched her father's coffin being slowly lowered into the dark earth of Arlington, her last tear had taken its track. Since then, she had never cried for her father again.

Until now.

A solitary tear slowly made its way down her right cheek. Its watery trail caught the feeble starlight and made her cheek glimmer softly. It slid down her skin only to pause ever so slightly on her jaw. With a tiny shiver, it fell and plopped quietly against the glass of the cockpit. Dezba reached up and wiped her arm across her cheek to try and hide the wet pathway.

But it was already too late to hide it from Thundercracker. His normally deep, fear-inducing voice filtered ever so softly into the cockpit. "Why are you leaking?"

She turned to face the console before her, being slightly reminded of her first flight with the indigo Seeker. At least this go-around she knew nothing life-threatening was going to occur. "I was…just thinking," she mumbled softly, unsure as to whether to talk about her feelings now or not.

"What about, fleshling?"

She bit her lip in hesitation and cast her eyes downwards. She really didn't want to talk, but then again she knew he would find out sooner or later. That was the downside to having a mental connection with someone else, especially with someone who was much more adept at hiding mental thought processes than you were. She sighed heavily. "Honestly," she began, "I was thinking about how you and I can be so much alike at times."

"And how is that?" he replied, amusement plainly clear in his voice.

She remained quiet, even as she felt the jet dip down towards the ground. He landed without taking the room to taxi as any normal aircraft would. The hatch slid open with a quiet _hiss_ and she took the cue to hop out of the cockpit. She gingerly made her way across the wing, not wanting to jar her aching ribs anymore than necessary. But if climbing down a jet's wing was difficult with a few broke ribs, it was doubly more so with a broken arm as well.

"Sit down," an exasperated voice spoke into the night.

Startled by his sudden outburst, she complied instantly, wincing slightly as the sudden change in position caught up with her. Suddenly she felt the wing begin to tilt groundward and before she could protest, Dezba found herself nearly waist deep in soft, red sand.

"Thanks a lot, jerk," she groused, whispering the last part as if to keep him from hearing her insult. If he heard her (and she knew he did) he was opting to ignore her comment. She stood trying to brush the sand from her clothing. Thundercracker's sound of transformation quickly drew her eye. She never tired of seeing the seemingly impossible maneuver. She took a few steps back and watched as the mighty Decepticon rose to his full height; even though she knew now he would not harm her, she still couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by his figure. His dark coloring made him nearly invisible in the night; sharp edges and points accented every angle of his body. It was quite a contrast from the rounded, smooth image of the Autobots' armor. His inferno-like eyes seemed to burn the very air around them. She still couldn't help but wince slightly as he directed that flame-like gaze towards her.

"You still have not answered my question, youngling. Just how is it that you feel we two beings are alike?"

Dezba turned away, her back facing the Seeker. Part of her wanted to answer Thundercracker's question, the other wanted to take these tortuous emotions and bury them deeper into her mind, never to surface again. She walked a few steps away, her footfalls muffled by the sand. She crossed her arms as comfortably as she could and slowly began to piece together an answer. "You've been hurt, not physically but emotionally and I can relate to that," she finally said, turning her head slightly to gauge his reaction.

Thundercracker tilted his head curiously, optics narrowing slightly. "And how is that?"

"You've lost your sister, someone that was very close to you. I…I lost my father when I was still a little girl; I barely remember him," she elaborated quietly, casting her eyes downward to stare at the red earth. "We've both hidden that loss from others, one of us longer than the other," she added, a small grin tugging at her lips.

"I see," he replied. He had known about the girl's loss since he first met her back in the Mojave. Her father's record of death had said he had been killed in a field training accident while serving in the US Army. According to human standards Dezba's father, Darren Collins, had been a highly decorated and well-respected soldier. He watched the various emotions play across her face as the human girl struggled to contain herself.

Dezba slowly sank into the sand trying her damndest to keep from crying; it was a failing effort. Sadness, bitterness, anger and grief rushed over her mind and body; years of pent-up frustration and anguish flowed down her cheeks only to moisten the sand around her feet. Through their link he could feel her anguish and pain, both mental and physical. In true Decepticon fashion, he had already released his anger on the battered chassis of his former friend and although one fist fight could not repair millions of years of betrayal and mistrust, it did make him feel better to lash out at one of the antagonists that had helped to entrap him within a faction he had never supported. The anguish Dezba was feeling now was the result of the escalating series of events her young mind had endured over the past couple of weeks. The memory of her father seemed to be the catalyst for this recent spouting of emotion.

Thundercracker felt uncomfortable around this show of emotion. Anger he could deal with; bitterness he had dispatched easily, but the tears of an organic were something new to him. He had always dealt with his emotions using violence, had watched others do likewise, but that principle wouldn't, couldn't apply with Dezba.

Dezba released an anguished scream and pounded the sand with her one good arm. Fierce stabs of pain racked her ribcage as she sobbed and gasped for breath to fuel her cries. She felt so much anger, some of it her own, some of it residual from Thundercracker. She had tried to hold it back, to remain strong and accept these circumstances that had changed her life forever. But she just couldn't take it anymore. She screamed her frustrations to the heavens and allowed the desert sands to absorb her tears.

Suddenly she felt strong, muscular arms hoist her to her feet. The touch was gentle, but firm and being especially mindful of her injuries. However, the gentleness of the contact was lost to the instinctive reactions that had been hardwired into her mind upon her capture by Sector Seven. Dezba screamed in fright and began to fight against the touch on her shoulders. She struggled against the arms and began to kick and fight with all the strength she could muster.

It wasn't until she felt herself being turned around quite forcefully and held at arm's length that her struggles began to cease. Through bloodshot eyes, she stared in numbed shock at the figure before her; and then she heard the voice—a very familiar, deep, baritone voice.

"Dezba! Stop it; it's me, TC!"

She stopped struggling completely, lower lip trembling as she studied the unknown person before her. His arms were a ghostly white in the starlight, powerful and muscular. He towered over her, she barely coming up to his lower chest. A light, desert wind played half-heartedly with charcoal black hair. Deep scarlet-colored eyes pierced into her own. Once again she heard that familiar voice coming from this stranger.

"It's me. This is my holoform; you have nothing to fear; I'm here for you."

Slowly, understanding seeped into the instinctual fog that clouded her mind. This was Thundercracker. This was her guardian in human form; she didn't know how it was possible, but at this moment in time, she really didn't care. She nodded her head and before the Decepticon could react, she threw her one good arm around his neck and began to cry anew into the holographic fabric of his shirt.

At first, Thundercracker just stood still. At one time he might have been able to provide comfort in a fashion acceptable to others, but millions of years in the Decepticons' service had hardened him to such "weaknesses." Nevertheless, as awkward as he felt he decided that he would at least try for Dezba's sake; he'd been doing a lot of that lately. Hesitantly, he raised his arms and slowly embraced the girl's quivering shoulders, pulling her a little closer to his chest. She continued to cry quietly, gripping his shoulders with such ferocity he knew it would have caused any normal human to flinch uncomfortably.

"I miss him so much…" Dezba sobbed into his chest. "I wish everything could go back to the way it was."

Thundercracker chuckled softly, a deep rumbling contained within his human chest. "Then you would have never had the privilege of meeting my acquaintance."

That drew a faint laugh from her lips. "You're funny," she huffed, drawing away from him slightly in order to see his eyes. For the first time in a long time, those crimson depths were void of anger, hostility, sadness or even bitterness. It was like staring into a warm hearth fire when everything else was cold and lifeless outside. They held something else—understanding, comprehension. Slowly her tears subsided, leaving only moistened streaks and red, puffy eyes in their wake. She sighed and placed her cheek back onto his chest before asking, "Do you sometimes wish everything would go back to the way it was?"

"I would be lying if I said I didn't. Most of my life has been one large burden of regret, but you learn to move on, for you realize deep down within yourself that is what your loved ones would want you to do."

She nodded her head slightly. Yes, that is exactly what her father would have wanted her to do. She may not have remembered much, but she had been told he was a strong-willed, if not stubborn individual. Her mother would have advised the same thing. Her mother. And what of her stepfather? At that moment, Dezba felt a burning desire to see every individual within Sector Seven pay dearly for her loss, especially the bastard that ordered the arrest of her family. Miller had already received his; this she knew and on a primeval level was grateful. But she wanted all of them to pay; Sector Seven wasn't even supposed to exist anymore. Who gave them the right to destroy her family? True, her mother and now herself had special knowledge of an alien race, but there had to have been a better way to retrieve that information, right?

"Thundercracker?"

"Hmmm?"

"When you and the others were searching for me, did you ever find out what happened to my stepfather?"

A very long silence ensued. She felt his muscles tense up around her body and then slowly relax. His silence was almost as frightening as his anger, maybe more so. In the distance, Dezba heard the lonely, hair-raising cry of a single coyote. Finally, he replied. "Yes, I did." His head dropped to one side and he stepped away from her.

Dezba didn't like how he was reacting. She could feel him blocking her mental inquiries. "What happened? Where is he, TC?"

Another long silence. He looked up and met her questioning hazel eyes. His face showed no emotion whatsoever, but his crimson eyes shone with steely resolve. She suddenly found herself immersed in Thundercracker's memory of that fateful night. She experienced the wave of emotions he had felt, watched as hundreds of men died by his and his fellow Decepticons' hands, even felt his own shock and surprise at discovering her stepfather's filthy, self-fulfilling plans. She watched every detail, right down to the last gurgling scream her stepfather uttered. And when it was all over, she felt the emptiness, the waste and meaninglessness that he had felt upon giving Michael Richards his comeuppance.

As the memory slowly dissipated, Dezba felt overwhelmed by what she had seen. She wanted to deny it. She wanted to say it was all a fabricated lie, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Deep down she knew Thundercracker had shown her the truth; the blue Con had never lied to her in the past. He never sugar-coated anything, never tried to cover anything up, which only made accepting what had happened that much harder. Ultimately Dezba felt vacant. She officially had no more family left. The one person she had hoped was still alive, had still cared for her, had been one of the one's responsible for ruining her life and ending her mother's.

She slowly sat back down onto the sand, allowing the shock to envelop her body and mind. She was barely aware that Thundercracker's holoform had knelt down beside her and had even placed a comforting arm across her shoulders. No tears would come this time; she wasn't too sure if she'd been able to cry if she wanted to waste them on her traitorous stepfather. Had he cared for them at all? Had he not loved them at least one point in time? Obviously not, if he had allowed her to be kidnapped with the intent to murder and had also stood by while her mother was executed. What kind of person was that? She found such malice, such greed almost incomprehensible.

She turned her head and met Thundercracker's burgundy gaze. "How did you do it?" she whispered.

"Do what?" he replied.

"You lost your family; you were betrayed by those closest to you. How did you cope with all that?"

"Violence mainly," he said quietly, turning his head to stare out into the desert. "I drowned my sorrows and anger with other mechs' fluids, with their energon. Looking back now, I know I would have done things differently. It's not a pathway I would recommend for anyone to take, especially one as young and innocent as you."

Dezba lowered her eyes to the rust-colored sand. "I don't know what to do. I have no one left."

Thundercracker turned and gripped her chin fiercely in one hand. His sudden movement startled her; she gazed with wide eyes up into his pale, finely-chiseled human features. "That is NOT true Dezba Collins!" he said fiercely. Once again it seemed as if living flames were trapped behind his irises as he stared Dezba down. "You may not have any human relations left, but you still have _me_. Have I not already proved just how far I'm willing to go to protect you? A human nonetheless?"

She remained silent, slowly digesting the words he had just spoken. Up until now, she had felt she had become a pawn, a thing that was currently desired by aliens and humans alike. She had felt that her now unique, hereditary condition was the only thing keeping her alive and desirable. But what the Seeker had just said made her rethink her place in this conflict.

"But it's only because of our link, isn't it?" she replied bitterly. "Miller told me why I'm so important to you, Sector Seven and now COBRA. I know things, Thundercracker!" she suddenly exploded, jerking away from his grip. "I know things that no human should even remotely be aware of. I know how you and your people can continue living! My whole family knew! I've got some sort of crazy, genetic GPS system stuck in my head that maps a planet I didn't even know existed two weeks ago and it's been passed down for generations!"

Her rant finished she sat and huffed for air. Every breath stung, every twist was like being wrapped in a fiery web. Once again Thundercracker took Dezba's chin in his hand.

"Two weeks ago you might have been right, _human_. You were an object, an anomaly that puzzled us, puzzled me. But you don't have this kind of connection with another being without getting to know them on some personal level. Everything you've gone through, I've gone through. I've felt your pain, your sadness, your anger, your frustrations and your happiness, all whether I've wanted to or not. And because we are connected on this level, I couldn't push you away like I've done to so many who have come before you. Solarflare was the closest Cybertronian to me, as friend and family. When I lost her I didn't want anyone else to be close to me for fear of losing them to the War as well, not to mention it made becoming a Decepticon that much easier.

You have forced me to care for another and in the process made me realize I can't continue to live my life separate from others. You, _a human_, are responsible for this and I've come to realize that I care as much for you as a creator cares for their sparkling."

She stared blankly at him, then quite abruptly threw her arm around his neck and hugged him fiercely. She pointedly ignored the protesting pains the movement gave to her injuries. "Thank you. Thank you so much, TC," she whispered softly, a solitary tear kissing her cheek.

"If anything, I should be thanking you…Dess."

That brought a small smile to her lips as she sat back. Suddenly his holoform flickered and then disappeared. She watched, amazed, as his true form reanimated. A cloud of concern shadowed her features as she watched a series of sparks cascade from the nasty gash across his left wing. "I don't think Ratchet is going to be too pleased with you," she said, rolling her eyes up to look at him.

He snorted derisively. "As you humans say, 'I'll cross that bridge when I get there.' Now then," he began, kneeling to her level, "Care to elaborate on your 'genetic GPS system' or am I going to have to ask Soundwave?"

"That's not even remotely funny," Dezba replied, but her eyes still smiled with warmth. That was Decepticon humor for you.

* * *

Autobots and Decepticons were gathered into the Command Center discussing the whirlwind of events that had transpired over the past several days. Tensions were high and suspicions even higher as both Optimus and Starscream exchanged their knowledge about both the girl and her connection with the humans.

"So let me clarify things for everyone here," Optimus began. "Correct me if I am wrong, Starscream."

The beige Seeker only raised his head, his optics were narrowed in a haughty display of superiority as he stood with Skywarp next to Prime at the head of the ensemble.

"Thundercracker's charge, Dezba Collins, has an intimate connection with him due to their contact when he inadvertently rescued her within the Mojave Desert. We are still unclear as to the scope of Dezba Collins power, it being triggered only by intense acts of emotional or physical harm. As of yet, we are still unsure where this power came from; however we do know that the supposedly disbanded Sector Seven Agency is still in operation and they want the girl as well. It appears that these humans are working outside of their government authorization; in fact, I doubt that the United States government is aware of their existence at all. And according to Skywarp, there also appears to be another group of humans aiding them. Have I paraphrased everything correctly, Starscream?" Optimus asked turning to look at the Decepticon leader.

"I believe so," Starscream replied softly.

"So, what you're trying to say is there is a group of humans out there that want this human female because it is believed she has some sort of power that can detrimental or beneficial to us, depending on who has her at the time," Prowl queried, as always his logical thought taking precedent.

"Correct Prowl," Optimus confirmed.

"And what does her power have to do with Thundercracker?" the officer asked.

"That I do not know," Optimus said.

"I doubt they even know themselves," Starscream added, the disdain evident in his inflection. Suddenly his optics dimmed and his posture grew slightly more rigid; he inclined his helm and turned away from the others. All the Autobots tensed at the Decepticon's sudden change in behavior. After a few more tense seconds, Starscream turned to Prime. "We have company coming," he sneered knowingly.

"More of your soldiers, Starscream, or visitors of a different kind?" Optimus asked, raising an optic ridge.

"Both actually," Starscream replied. He relished the tension within the room for it meant that the Autobot fools feared him and were afraid he'd do something…drastic. And he really hadn't done anything yet. He restrained himself from chuckling out-loud. Pathetic fools.

"Honestly, Prime, did you really believe that I would come here alone? What kind of a fool do you take me for?" he scoffed. "Soundwave has been circling this area since Thundercracker and his pet arrived. He and my other soldiers have had your entire base surrounded since I've been here."

"You fraggin' glitch! You…" Hound began, but was cut short.

"Shut your mouth before it becomes your new exhaust port, Autobot!" Starscream snarled threateningly. "You cannot stand there and say you would not have done the same thing! I am cautious, but not stupid!"

Hound did not continue whatever he had been about to say. He stood in fuming silence, hoping for the slightest excuse to blow that flying scrap pile to the Pit.

"Starscream, besides your other soldiers, who else will be arriving?" Optimus interjected before the conflict could escalate.

"Human soldiers," the Seeker growled. "Not Sector Seven agents, but humans from a different sect. Soundwave said they call themselves 'G.I. Joes.'"

"Prowl, please go meet our new arrivals," Optimus commanded. Prowl nodded his head and left the Command Center. The silence was deafening as the doors closed behind the Autobot's Combat Strategist Officer. Starscream and Skywarp both stood rather rigidly, a very arrogant air surrounding their position. Hound, Bumblebee, Optimus, Sam and Michaela stood to the left of the vast door, patiently waiting for the new visitors. Processors and minds were swirling with questions, doubts, hesitation, and worry. Autobots and Decepticons hadn't met peacefully together in over millions of years and now all of a sudden it was an instant reality? On top of all this, a faction of the human race was Pit-bent on their extermination, no matter the faction, and it was extremely difficult to tell the benign humans from the malignant ones. Sensor arrays were nearly overloaded with the amount of pressure bearing down on everyone.

Finally, the resounding sounds of metallic footsteps could be heard echoing within the corridor of the base. Not five astroseconds later, the doors hissed open to reveal Prowl closely followed by Soundwave and Barricade. Behind them a small party of five human soldiers entered the Command Center as well; bringing up the rear were the Decepticon twins, Runabout and Runamuck. All the Decepticons filed to the right side of the room to stand beside or near their leader. The only Con not accounted for was Thundercracker.

"State your purpose here, vermin," Starscream demanded, stepping forward to get a better view of this new group of humans.

"Starscream, as this is my base, I will be the one conducting the questions," Optimus admonished the Seeker. He turned his attention away from the silently fuming jet to study the small group before him. "Please forgive us. You have come at a most inopportune moment. We weren't prepared to receive human visitors."

A tall, muscularly-built blonde human spoke. "That is quite all right. We weren't expecting to be escorted by Decepticons for that matter," the man said light-heartedly. His voice, though courteous, carried an air of silent authority. "Optimus Prime I presume?"

"Yes, you are correct. And you are…?"

"You may call me Duke. The others with me are Flint, Scarlett, Roadblock, and Gung Ho." He pointed to each individual in turn. "We are part of an elite team of soldiers that operates around the world to counter terrorist threats wherever they may arise. It has come to our attention that one such cell, COBRA, has become interested in a certain person that was last known to be in your care. Dezba Collins?"

"And what business of it is yours, fleshling?" Starscream growled from his position directly to the right of the group.

"You must be Starscream," Duke said, crossing his arms defiantly. "We've heard quite a bit about you. Kind of a surprise seeing you and your crew cooped up down here meeting with the Autobots."

Starscream's optics glowered with subdued rage. He wanted nothing more than to pull one of his Vulcan cannons and shred this arrogant carbon monkey on the spot, but his more logical, conniving side urged him to wait and see how much else these humans knew. They obviously possessed a fairly decent intelligence system to have not been too surprised at his and the other Decepticons' presence and they even seemed to be up-to-date on the Collins girls' situation. Infiltrators perhaps? Time would tell.

"Be careful, human. A ceasefire may be in effect, but I don't recall it including fleshbags, such as yourself."

If Duke seemed concerned with the threat, his face never showed it. "I'll remember that."

"Forgive our suspicions, Duke, but how do we know you are not the very enemy that has attempted to take the girl before?" Optimus asked, taking control of the situation once more.

"I'm afraid you don't, Optimus Prime. You have only my word to go on. However, you may speak with my Commanding Officer, General Hawk, to settle any doubts that you may have."

"And what business do you have with Dezba Collins?" Optimus asked.

"We are under orders to take her back to our headquarters for her safety as well as the safety of the rest of world."

Just at that time the doors slid open to reveal a very filthy, very pissed indigo-shaded Seeker. His optics flared like an oxygen-deprived fire. On his shoulder and slightly behind the air in-take sat the girl in question.

When he spoke, Thundercracker's voice vibrated the Command Center, leaving none present doubting the seriousness of his tone. "The girl is not going anywhere."


	22. Negotiations

**A/N: Sorry for the delay. Had this one ¾ of the way finished and then…WHAM! Writer's block for the ending. Gotta love those! So, yes, this is mainly a dialogue chapter, but a necessary plot mover nonetheless. Hope ya'll enjoy!**

**Chapter 22: Negotiations**

The entire room fell into a deathly silence, as the cobalt Seeker strode with purposeful strides into the room. His steps echoed loudly and his weight shook the floor, causing most of the humans in the room to brace themselves for balance. His blazing optics were focused on Duke and his small entourage. A couple of the humans tensed, hands hovering over their firearms warily, their eyes never leaving the giant metal behemoth facing them.

Duke turned and faced the menacing Con, motioning with one hand down by his side for his men to stand-down. He and his team had been briefed on the current situation concerning the Decepticons and the Autobots, as well as the history between the two factions. When word came to headquarters that the Autobots were now in possession of the girl, he and his team had double-timed it to the Autobot base in order to retrieve her for safekeeping. COBRA wanted this girl something fierce and as it was their duty to protect the country and its civilians at all costs, the Joes needed to know why she was so valuable to all the parties involved. What the Joes had not expected was to find the Decepticons fraternizing with their sworn enemies. It had come as quite a shock to the small party to be escorted into the Autobot base by the very aliens who had sworn to destroy the planet and nary a shot had been fired. To say that the Joes were more than a little apprehensive would have been an understatement. Having Thundercracker leering over them didn't help matters either.

Duke's ever observant eyes quickly landed on the crouching figure trying to hide behind the Decepticon's massive air intake. He recognized this Con from the briefing files—Designation: Thundercracker, chosen alternate form: F-15E Strike Eagle. He was Starscream's Second in Command and one of the most dangerous aerial combatants to face in heavens' arena; his prowess on the ground was not to be taken lightly either. Duke's icy blue eyes once again diverted to the girl. Her knuckles were white, she was gripping the Con's armor so tightly. Her jet black locks were tangled and knotted and her expression was a mixture of pain and oddly enough, concern. Concern directed at the mech on whose shoulder she stood. Hmm, this was going to be more difficult than he first thought.

The tension within the room tightened to near-snapping levels, as Thundercracker knelt down to be face to face with the new comers. "Have I made myself clear?" he growled, in a very low, menacing tone. Duke, to his credit, never flinched as he stood inches from Thundercracker's countenance. The Joe's face tightened and his mouth became a very thin line. He was walking on thin ice and he knew it.

"And why is that?" he asked softly, choosing his words with care.

"She is not your concern, fleshbag. If there truly is any intelligence in that organic lump you call a processor, you will take your followers and leave."

"I was under the impression that Decepticons hated humans; what makes Miss Collins so special?"

"Do you have a glitch in your audio sensors, meatball? I said to _leave!"_

"Thundercracker," Dezba's tiny voice began, but she was instantly cut off.

'_Silence!'_ She shrank back behind the intake and lowered her eyes to the floor, but her mouth was set in a grim line. This wasn't going to end well. He was fairly riled up now. No sense in wasting oxygen, that was for sure.

Optimus and the Autobots were tensing up noticeably. The Autobot leader cast a quick glance over to Starscream, but the Decepticon's facial expression was unreadable. Optimus wasn't quite sure what to do to diffuse the situation. If he intervened, there was every possibility that the Decepticons would attack; if he didn't do anything, chances were high more blood would be spilled this night.

"I'm sorry, but we're not going anywhere without Miss Collins here," Duke almost whispered.

Thundercracker chuckled darkly. "Your funeral." He raised a massive fist above the tiny group of humans. For Dezba and everyone else witnessing, the next several seconds seemed to move in slow motion. She saw her guardian raise his fist to strike down the GI Joes, she heard herself scream as the fist came crashing down. Duke and his Joes were scattering and drawing their weapons at the same time. The next thing she knew she was sailing through the air, thrown off of Thundercracker's shoulder by a violent force. She landed on something hard and yet forgiving, her breath escaped her in a rush and a searing pain shot through all points of her body. As her senses came back to her, she looked up to see Thundercracker being restrained by Starscream, the Decepticon's leader hand and body bracing against the blue Seeker's outstretched fist and arm. Her next reaction was to see just what had stopped her body from completing its unexpected flight. Large, purple fingers clasped around her body were a dead giveaway. She looked back and over her shoulder and gave Skywarp a hesitant smile of thanks.

"Quick thinking," she said softly.

He shrugged his wings. "Who needs reflexes when you've got teleportation?" She followed his smirking glance to see the incensed optics of several of the Autobots. Clearly, their intent had been to catch her as well, but it appeared that the fast acting Seeker beat them to the punch. In the next instant, Starscream's raspy, but authoritative voice drew both of their attention.

"Not today, Thundercracker," Starscream hissed, as he strained to withhold his wingmate. "Let's at least see what these worms know of the current situation and their involvement with Collins."

"We can't trust them, Starscream! How do we know they are not among the humans who have instigated this whole mess!?"

"Soundwave knows! Had you not been gallivanting around in the desert nursing your pride, you would have known that!" He flung Thundercracker's wrist back, sending the blue flyer toppling over backwards onto his wings. The room shook with the weight of his impact, and Dezba started towards him, but Skywarp's fingers created a solid barrier. "Now then, get to your feet you worthless pile of reject parts, and let us settle this dilemma like soldiers instead of sparklings!"

With a wounded, subdued rage, the blue Eagle struggled to his feet. His optics, however, never left the new comers that had slowly been matriculating from various pieces of cover. He regained his footing and walked over to stand beside Barricade, arms across his massive cockpit. He barely noticed when the black and white interceptor leaned over in his direction and whispered, "Frankly, I'm disappointed Screamer didn't let you follow through." Thundercracker snorted derisively. For once he agreed with the Shock Trooper. Skywarp soon joined him on his right wing, allowing Dezba to transfer hands from purple to blue.

'_Are you all right?"_ she felt him ask.

'_Yeah, I'm OK. Although next time I want to learn how to fly, I'd rather be in the cockpit than out in the open air." _She received a slight chuckle in response, as she rubbed her injured ribs.

'_My apologies. I…I let my anger cloud my judgment.'_

'_Obviously. But hey, thanks for sticking up for me, although I think attempting to crush these guys was taking it a bit too far. Believe me I'm not going anywhere without you."_

She felt him swell with pride; he also clasped his hand a little tighter around her body, his own form of reassurance for both himself and for her. Once again, Starscream's voice cut into the air of the room like a dull knife cutting into tissue paper.

"My sincerest apologies, Optimus Prime; it _will not_ happen again," he snapped viciously, turning his blazing, crimson optics on Thundercracker. The blue Seeker returned the heated stare with one of his own, subconsciously raising the girl closer to his cockpit. Starscream turned again to the Autobot leader.

"As I see it, I'm not the one you should be apologizing to," the Prime stated evenly; he inclined his head to Duke and his soldiers. The humans stood, weapons raised preventively to their shoulders, eyeing the mass of metal giants warily. Starscream's intervention came only as a mild surprise; the Decepticon leader wanted to know what these humans knew and it was the only reason there wasn't a bloody smear on the floor. He was the only one that could have acted without Decepticon opposition. Optimus and his crew could have stopped Thundercracker, but they wouldn't have been able to prevent everyone from getting injured or worse. A firefight would have been sure to ensue.

Starscream gave a derisive snort and looked down on the small group, contempt evident in his stare. "I don't apologize to vermin," he sneered, turning his back on Prime and walking back over to his side of the room. Tensions were nearing the boiling point and the steady hum of weapons systems reminded everyone present just what they were dealing with.

"Duke, why is it that you have orders to take Miss Collins?" Optimus prompted again. However, before the soldier could make ready a reply an outraged voice made itself heard.

"WOULD EVERYONE HERE PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT ME AS IF I WERE AN OBJECT!!? PLEASE!! I'm right here, you know!" She motioned for Thundercracker to put her down on the floor. She stumbled off of his hand, clutching her ribs as well as she could and made her way over to the Joes. "Now then, why in the hell do I need to go with you guys when I have a thirty foot tall body guard that can do the job just as easily, if not better than you? Oh, and I know he's not costing tax payers anything, so what's with you?"

At first the Joes didn't say anything; they exchanged looks with one another as the seemingly complex situation was summed up in an almost insanely simple question. Suddenly one of the Joes broke the silence with muffled, giggling laughter. It was Scarlett, the red-haired counter intelligence vixen.

"And just what do you think is funny, Scarlett?" Flint asked, throwing a glance to Duke in the process. Gung Ho and Roadblock exchanged looks with one another. Scarlett slung her crossbow back over her shoulder and approached the apprehensive young woman before her. She gently placed a hand on Dezba's shoulder (which earned an automatic growl of warning from Thundercracker) and turned to face her companions.

"Don't you think she's made a wise point? Think about it. We may be the Joes, but we've never faced anyone or anything, for that matter, as powerful as these…Cybertronians. Leave it to a woman to simplify everything down into its most simple state." Scarlett then turned to Dezba. "We did not know you had a…guardian," she said, casting a furtive glance up at the dark blue Seeker, "especially one that was a Decepticon. We were told that they weren't exactly known for their generosity towards humans."

"That still doesn't explain why you're here and why you want me," Dezba countered, raising a dark eyebrow and cocking her head to one side.

"Prior to finding out about this development, our orders were to take you back to our headquarters for safekeeping until we could figure out exactly what COBRA is up to," explained Duke. "As you've seen yourself, they've gone to great lengths to get you, even succeeded in getting you away from these Decepticons once before. What's to keep them from trying again?"

"How did _you _know about that?" Starscream challenged Duke, red optics blazing with suspicion.

"Well, let's just say you're not the only one that has an outstanding Intelligence Officer, Commander," Duke replied, a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Well, let me make one thing crystal clear here: I'm not going anywhere without Thundercracker. Period. Dot. End of story. And I can already tell you that this COBRA bunch isn't going get the information they want from me."

"Is that what this is about? What kind of information, Miss Collins?" Optimus asked quietly.

Dezba cast a glance back up to Thundercracker. "You're in this as much as I am. Maybe you could explain it a little better?" Thundercracker nodded his head and reached back down to pick the girl up. He placed her once again on his shoulder and directed his hell-fire glare to all before him.

"As most of you already know and those that don't," he growled, "this human and I share a mind link with one another. A bond so powerful that we can transfer thoughts, memories, pain, strength and a myriad of other emotions."

"Prognosis: Thundercracker and the human have a symbiotic relationship," said Soundwave, his monotonous voice echoing within the room.

"Symbiotic. Like you and your cassettes?" Hound asked, speaking up for the first time in a long while.

"Comparison is accurate," the Nighthawk confirmed.

"It is true that Dezba was taken from us, but it was during a time we were all trying to figure out what in the Pit was wrong with her and with me. This whole mind-link thing had everyone a little confused. But as you can see, we got her back…"

"Yeah, thanks to the Autobots," Sam muttered under his breath. A sharp snarl from the blue Seeker caused both Michaela and Sam to duck behind their yellow protector.

"Continue Thundercracker," Optimus urged.

"We _allowed_ the Autobots to take her back to their base. She was injured while with those humans who took her. The Autobots could provide medical care that we could not and it is the only reason we are here now, under this cease-fire. Dezba has told me what she learned while she had been taken and it will be a sobering revelation for us all." His optics looked at each Cybertronian in turn. "The human scum named Miller was to capture and interrogate her on the whereabouts of Vector Sigma."

Almost instantly a chorus of raised voices began shouting questions to one another. Optimus motioned to all for silence. Slowly the din faded to more tolerable levels.

"Vector Sigma? I thought that was just a legend? That it didn't exist?" Bumblebee asked the question that had set all of their processors afire.

"We thought much the same," the blue Seeker agreed. He looked over on his shoulder at Dezba. She pursed her lips into a thin line and then began to speak.

"Apparently, my family on my mother's side carries a phenomenon known as genetic memory. Something happened in my ancestry in which memories of you guys," she motioned to all the transformers, "or rather beings like you, began to appear in my ancestors' minds. Like for me, I've witnessed the very first battle that sparked your War. My mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and so forth experienced similar images. I know this now because Miller told me that they were often reported for mental illnesses and he had the records to prove it. He also told me that my mother had a dream in which Vector Sigma spoke to her and revealed its location to her. According to him, my mother had this dream right after your Allspark was destroyed in Mission City, but he killed her when she refused to give him the information and then realized I was still alive. These people, who are after me, believe that I'm next in line for Vector Sigma to reveal itself to me and they want to use its power to take control over Earth and eradicate you guys."

"No offense, little one, but how do we know for certain that Vector Sigma will reveal itself to you? If my understanding of human genetics is correct, sometimes such phenomena will skip a generation," Prowl inquired.

"Well, I know because I've been told. A man appears in my dreams every so often and gives me clues about this future that I'm facing," she answered, lowering her head.

"The human speaks the truth," Soundwave confirmed once more. "Mental probing has revealed evidence of such apparitional existence."

"Yeah, you would know, wouldn't you, trashcan?!" Dezba growled from her perch. Soundwave's visor glinted unemotionally in the artificial light.

"This is quite the revelation," Optimus mused. "We've always believed the Allspark to be the original source of creation on our planet, but it appears that is not the case. Apparently the old legends held a grain of truth within them."

"More than we realized," Starscream concurred, he placed a clawed hand under his chin, a thoughtful look in his red optics.

"Is that all that you know?" Optimus asked Dezba, concern deep within his azure optics.

"Yeah, that's all I know. Before Miller could continue beating the crap out of me, this guy called Zartan showed up and wasted him. He was like a human chameleon, able to change his appearance like I can change channels on a TV, he drug me around the building trying to get away from Trashcan's rejects over there and that's the last I remember until I woke up here."

"Zartan!? Now we know for certain that COBRA is neck-deep in all this. He's COBRA Commander's secret right-hand man. He brings Zartan in when he wants discreet, attainable results. Zartan is a master at disguise, as you witnessed yourself. You were very lucky to have escaped," Flint elaborated.

"Duke, you and your team seem to know much about this organization that calls itself COBRA. Can you please elaborate?" Optimus asked, now turning the focus back onto the Joes.

"COBRA is a powerful terrorist organization that me and my team were formed to combat. We know their leader as only COBRA Commander and he desires nothing more than to control the world. He went underground for several years in which we never saw or heard any type of activity during that time. After the events of Mission City, activity began to pick up. We suspected that COBRA was gearing up for another major initiative, but we never knew exactly how they were doing it. Looks like they were using Sector Seven as the go-between and a cover for their operations. COBRA was a handful before they got their hands on alien technology, if they manage to figure out a way to use this Vector Sigma you keep referencing…"

"They must be capable of space travel before that can happen. Human technology is not advanced enough to make such a deep, space-faring expedition. Cybertron is light-years away and besides, they still do not know of the location of the planet or Vector Sigma," Hound interrupted.

"You are only partially correct, Autobot," Barricade spoke up for the first time. "The humans _are_ capable of interstellar travel, are they not Optimus Prime?"

All the humans turned to stare at Optimus expectantly. He gave a long, tired sigh. "You are correct, Barricade. Before we made planet fall on Earth, we came into contact with humans for the first time near what they call the Andromada Cloud. It was a tiny craft, but had clear indications of Cybertronian design, derived from the reverse engineering of Megatron's body when he was held in stasis."

"And what a pathetic craft it was," Starscream sneered. "The humans may have been able to travel within the vastness of space, but they were utterly clueless to interstellar navigation. I did them a favor in destroying their ship. At least it was a quick and painless death."

"It is not for you to decide who lives and who doesn't, Starscream. All sentient life is valuable no matter how small or delicate," Optimus reprimanded the winged Con.

Starscream narrowed his optics dangerously. "And it is not for you to decide what is right and what is wrong, now is it Prime? After all, that is what makes us sentient isn't it—the ability to choose what is right and what is wrong and being conscious of that decision."

Optimus pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "What is done, is done and there is no changing the past, we have only control over the present and the future. Since there is an alliance between Sector Seven and COBRA, we must assume that they still have access to the technology to build another ship."

"It appears we have quite the handful to deal with, Optimus," Hound said, looking at his leader expectantly.

"That is why it is imperative that we keep you, Dezba Collins, safe from the hands of COBRA. Can we expect your cooperation?" Duke asked the young woman.

"Hey, I'm not the only one involved here. If anything you should be asking these guys for their 'cooperation.' Their planet is at stake too, you know!" Dezba retorted.

"She has a point, Duke," Scarlett said to her Commander. "This thing has gotten much more complicated than we ever expected."

"Damn right I have a point! Like I said, I'm not going anywhere without Thundercracker…"

"Yes, you have already made yourself explicitly clear on that matter," Prowl interjected, he focused his freezing gaze on the aforementioned Con. "It has already been established that the two of you share a symbiotic relationship, but my question is what triggered it to begin with?"

Once again the babbling voices died down as all waited for the expected response. Thundercracker exhausted air out of his intakes; he really did hate giving explanations, especially when he didn't quite understand everything himself.

"I don't know what triggered it; all I do know is that after I touched her for the first time in the desert, I was able to access her memories and she was able to access mine."

"Interesting," Prowl murmured. "It is a curious thing that only you have this connection with the human. Why not any of us? Why you in particular?"

"If I knew the answer, Autoscum, I would have gladly thrown it in your face by now, but as it stands I don't know the answer anymore than you do," Thundercracker replied irritably. Honestly, this whole discussion was beginning to grate on his sensor wires.

"We are facing a very grave threat to our existence, and you Dezba Collins, may hold the key to restoring our planet and ending this War," Optimus said, tacitly changing the subject.

"But I haven't even had that vision yet!" Dezba protested. The sudden importance thrust upon her made her feel very uncomfortable and more than a little wary.

"That is why it is all the more important to keep you from COBRA," Duke petitioned. "Our force can keep you safe until we can stop COBRA from following through with their plans."

"We can watch over the girl just as effectively as you can, human," Starscream countered, optics narrowing suspiciously.

"Just like when COBRA stole her from tall, dark, and violet over there?" Flint asked innocently.

Skywarp growled very softly. "Hey! I was ambushed, you little pest!"

"Still, they over-powered you, a Decepticon, and they can do it again," Duke pressed his case. "We have the knowledge and background to handle this group and to stop them in their tracks."

"We all have something at stake in this matter," Optimus began, stepping forward and making sure he had everyone's attention. "Vector Sigma, a relic we believed to be lost in the mists of legend, is in danger of falling into enemy hands and with it our chance to end our war once and for all. Duke, we cannot allow you to take Dezba from us, but if you, Starscream, are willing to work with us, we will help you protect this innocent life that destiny has chosen to carry all of our futures. What say you?"

Starscream brought a clawed hand to his chin thoughtfully. "You are asking much, Prime. How can I ignore millions of years' worth of warfare and distrust?"

"Because I know you are not my brother, Starscream. You have a scientist's mind and as such, you study every possible scenario at hand, before deciding on a course of action. I also know that you seek to end this war, not from greed but for the good of all of Cybertron. You now have that opportunity. Individually, we may not be able to safeguard you, Dezba, from COBRA's intentions, but if we can work together, we stand a much better chance of stopping this new threat before it destroys any more lives."

"I will…think about it, Prime. But until I reach my decision, the girl stays with Thundercracker." He turned to the blue Seeker, "Where you go and where you stay is your own decision; you know the risks involved." With that the dusky brown Seeker looked at the rest of his men in turn and strode from the Command Center, wings proudly raised. One by one, his Decepticons followed until only Thundercracker remained with the Autobots and the Joes.

"You all are welcome to use our spare quarters until a consensus can be reached," Optimus offered. Thundercracker regarded the Autobot leader with guarded optics. His intense gaze studied each one of the other Autobots. He was met with varying degrees of hostility, distrust, and anger. It was painfully obvious to him that although the Autobot leader was willing to overlook his past, the others were not.

"Your offer is generous, Optimus, but I must refuse," he rumbled lowly, turning to follow Starscream and the others. He now held Dezba protectively in his claws, loosely clutching her to his cockpit. As he walked out of the Command Center, Dezba turned and watched the Autobots and the Joes fade from sight; it seemed even among highly advanced sentient machines, they still had trouble with the complex process of reconciliation.

"Do you think they'll leave the base?" Scarlett asked Optimus.

"I do not believe so. Thundercracker is a mech with a very difficult past. It will take him time to rediscover who he truly is. As for Starscream…only Primus knows his decision. He is in a difficult position. If he agrees to help us, he risks losing the support of the Decepticons and with them much needed help in defending what remains of our homeworld not to mention the Decepticons do not harbor much respect for your world. Helping us is helping you; if he doesn't agree, we must convince Thundercracker and Dezba to remain, but we risk fighting two battles on the same front, two battles I know we cannot both win. We can only keep an eye on them and hope."

"Well, then we will stand-by until a decision is reached," Duke said.

"Very well. Bumblebee? Could you please show our human guests as well as Prowl and Hound to their quarters?"

"Yes, Prime," Bumblebee said cheerfully, as he prepared to exit the Command Center.

"If it's all the same with you, Optimus Prime, I'd like to stay with you and discuss some things a little more thoroughly," Duke asked.

"That will be quite all right, Duke. I'm sure you have many more questions." Optimus chuckled lightly. He bent down and offered the Joe Commander a hand.

One by one, the Command Center emptied; much had been accomplished, but much had been left to be desired.


	23. Of Soap Suds and Friendships

**A/N: Sorry for the delay everyone, but life's been hellaciously busy of late. I've not forgotten any of my stories, just concentrating on getting my career worked out. Thanks to all of you who have favorited, alerted, and reviewed thus far—I write for you guys. Enjoy this chapter; it's uncharacteristically fluffier than most! **

**Chapter 23: Of Soap Suds and Friendships**

Dezba listened to the heavy cadence of Thundercracker's metallic feet as he walked down the corridor and out into the desert. The day was dry and breezy and the young woman savored the gentle kiss of air as it gently pulled against her tangled locks of hair. She laid back in his smooth, metal palm and sighed, relieved that the tense confrontation was finally over. Her eyes traveled upward and she stared up into the heavens, watching a lone cloud slowly meander across a periwinkle blue sky. Things had been so hectic, so apprehensive the past few hours that she hadn't realized just how uptight she herself had been until it was all over. Her muscles ached dully and her ribs and arm throbbed in painful protest. Her whole body felt stiff and sore, but just being able to stretch out in Thundercracker's palm and relax against the smooth metal seemed to alleviate some of the aches and pains.

Thundercracker glanced down and casually watched the human laying in his palm. It would be such an easy thing to just close his fingers around her and squeeze until her delicate structure fractured under his strength—if he wanted to. But that was it, wasn't it? Not too long ago he probably would have wanted to, but now he found he could no sooner kill the human in his hand just as he could no sooner kill his wingmate, Skywarp. He didn't like to admit it, but he had grown quite attached to the frail creature now resting in his claws. But it went further than the link that they shared, although Primus knew that had been the catalyst for their friendship. Looking back on everything that had happened up to this point, he knew that he cared as much for Dezba as he had his own sister and in return Dezba cared for him. They both had suffered severe losses in their lifetime, though thousands of years apart, but still, no less traumatic for either one of them. Their friendship had been forged in blood, energon, pain and loss and their mental connection with each other only reinforced that which had been built.

Dezba's hazel eyes drifted from the bright blue sky and met his ruby gaze. She cocked her head curiously and asked, "Something on your mind, TC?"

He smirked. He liked that she had picked up on his nickname; only two others had ever dared to use it—Flare when she had still been alive and Warp. It was nice, really nice.

"Did you really mean it when you said you would not go anywhere without me?"

"Every word," she replied without hesitation. Her eyes never deviated, never blinked, but steadily bore into his own, a testament to the truth of her statement.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement. Movement up ahead drew his attention, however, and he quickly diverted his optics. Dezba turned and followed his gaze, a tiny quiver of apprehension settling in her stomach. Ahead of them, stood a massive aircraft hangar, abandoned by human and Autobot alike. It was a lonely, forlorn-looking building showing signs of its negligent care. Bright, reddish-orange streaks of rust striped the outer walls and dry, yellowish weeds choked the bottom edge of the building's walls. The large sliding doors had been drawn back, revealing the darkened maw of the building's interior. Skywarp stood at the entrance, arms crossed over his cockpit a serious expression on his normally nonchalant face. Dezba and Thundercracker shared a thought, reading each other's minds as only those telepathically connected could.

'_Need a moment?'_

'_More than likely,'_ he replied, a grim look darkening his features. As they approached, Skywarp motioned to someone inside the building; a few seconds later, Barricade appeared next to the purple and black Seeker. Thundercracker stopped before his friend, wariness evident in his posture.

"Can we talk? Privately?" Warp asked, nodding his head towards the human. Thundercracker raised an optic ridge.

"Starscream has ordered me to tend to the human's needs," Barricade spoke up, providing Skywarp with a necessary outlet. Thundercracker still didn't look too trusting. Brothers-in-arms they were; trusted allies they were not. "I won't harm your _pet_, Seeker. She needs medical attention and since the two of you have opted to come here, I'm the one playing doctor. Now hand her over," Barricade growled sullenly, opening a clawed hand expectantly.

'_Go on. You and Warp need to clarify a few issues. If I need you, you can be sure I'll let you know.'_

'_I don't like it, but out of all of us here Barricade does the best job in field repairs and is the best versed in human physiology. But if he draws one drop of unnecessary blood, I'll shred his carcass into metal shavings.'_

Dezba chuckled mentally; funny though it sounded, she knew her indigo guardian meant every word. Reluctantly she stepped from Thundercracker's hand to Barricade's, allowing the shiny black digits to wrap around her body like a cloak. Barricade snorted derisively and then slowly stalked back into the depths of the old hangar. Dezba watched Thundercracker and Skywarp transform and fly off, a large cloud of dust and grit temporarily obscuring the desert landscape and their subsequent departure. When next she looked, they were but pepper specks in the sky.

She and Barricade walked through the hangar and it didn't escape her attention that she was the object of the hated glares of the twins. Averting her gaze, she saw that Soundwave and all of his cassettes occupied the other side of the hangar. His visor glinted ominously in the dim light; Dezba shuddered involuntarily, remembering those horrid moments when the Communications Officer had mentally probed her mind.

Barricade felt the human's shiver and glanced down at her, optics narrowed slightly. "You have nothing to fear, human. Starscream has given strict orders that you are not to be harmed."

"Yeah, well, you know what they say—rules were made to be broken," she replied, still eyeing the Cons as she and Barricade disappeared into a different room. Once in the room, the police cruiser set her down on the floor and stood back.

"What are you—" Dezba began, but quickly bit her tongue as a red light engulfed her form. She jumped involuntarily as the light lingered for about 30 seconds and then disappeared completely. She heard him growl softly under his breath--something about playing nursemaid to an organic, degradation, filth, and inferiority. She scowled, thoroughly agitated; Dezba didn't have to be an audiologist to figure out the Interceptor was thoroughly disgusted with his current job.

"You know I didn't ask to play doctor with you," she snipped, raising an eyebrow.

"You will do well to keep your organic trap shut," Barricade snapped in reply, all four optics narrowing dangerously.

"Or you'll what? Scan me into submission? Try something and TC will make sure your new alt form will be a toilet bowl!" Perhaps it was the knowledge of her new found position in the turn of events between the Autobots and Decepticons that gave her this spurt of courage to talk back to Barricade. Or maybe it was the comfort knowing she had TC, and by extension Skywarp, as her own personal body guards that made the girl more cheeky than normal. And the fact that she now knew she had Starscream's orders protecting her only added more fuel to the fire. Whatever the reason, Dezba was feeling more bold than normal and it showed in her attitude and her words.

She suddenly found herself flat on her backside, ribs aching all the more. No more than a mere six inches from her person, Barricade slowly withdrew his fist from the round, newly made indention in the floor. A sinister grin slowly appeared on his faceplates as he saw the wide-eyed look of alarm on her face.

"Looks like I missed. Maybe I should try again; after all, accidents do happen," he snarled softly, flexing his finger joints in and out of a fist.

Dezba slowly picked herself up off the floor and gave Barricade a pointed, but wary stare. She wasn't done yet. "Well with aim like that, no wonder this war between you guys and the Autobots has been raging for centuries."

At first his optics flashed with vehemence and Dezba watched as he raised his fist over her tiny form once again. She cringed but didn't take her eyes from his optics. The massive metal fist hovered over her head for a few seconds more, straining the silence between the two. But then a peculiar thing occurred. Barricade began to tremble. At first Dezba stared in confusion; that is until she heard the deep rumbling emanating from the cruiser's broad chest. With a shock, she realized he was chuckling. It was a deep, throaty laugh filled with a dry and cruel sense of humor.

Barricade withdrew his fist and placed his massive, serrated fingers beside her. "I'll give you one thing, femme—you've got ball bearings. You might just make it around here."

Dezba really didn't know what happened after that, other than Barricade tended to her scrapes, lacerations, bruises and also made sure her bones were still set in their proper place. He worked in silence but it was not an awkward silence, but rather a comfortable one. Dezba couldn't help but think that maybe they had reached an understanding.

Barricade had just finished tending to her wounds and, with a grunt, indicated he was finished. As he turned away to clean his claws, it was then that Dezba noticed just how grimy and filthy the police cruiser truly was. Pale dust had turned the normally shiny, black armor panels a dull brownish-black; mud and dirt were caked around the quarter panels, and even the tires were a dingy, road-weary grey. She followed his projected pathway and saw a large faucet bolted into the concrete floor on the opposite side of the room. Suddenly, an idea hit her.

"Hey, Barricade!" she shouted, effectively getting his attention.

"What, meatbag!?" he replied, somewhat sourly. Having organic fluids on his metal was less than pleasant after all. The sooner he removed it the better.

"You ever heard the phrase 'you scratch my back, I'll scratch yours?" she queried, standing up and approaching him, a sly smirk on her face. It so eerily resembled Starscream's that Barricade had to do a double-take just to ensure whom he was really speaking to.

"And why would I want to do something like that?" he growled.

"Well, I was just thinking…," she paused for emphasis, "You just finished tending to me, so I was thinking that maybe I could do something for you in return."

He raised an optic ridge suspiciously. Respect she had earned, but trust was another issue entirely. "And that would be?"

"How about a car wash?"

The offer took him by surprise. He hadn't had a proper wash since leaving the _Nemesis _and wash racks had yet to be constructed in their base back in the mountains. The thought of getting all the grit and grime that came with living on this filthy mudball off his frame was a pleasant idea. A pleasant idea at war with the equally disgusting thought of the organic _touching_ him all over in order to achieve said cleanliness.

Dezba saw the hesitation in his manner and guessed as to what was causing the delayed response. "You know, I may be small and I may be nothing but a fleshbag, but I'm a fleshbag that can reach certain areas a whole lot easier than you could. And I'm sure, having been out here in the desert here lately, you've got sand in places you didn't know you had."

Oh, she hit the nail on the head! He didn't know when or how, but this human had definitely been taking persuasion lessons from the Screaming One. The thought of being completely clean and sand-free finally won him over to the idea. It was a logical argument after all.

"All right, squishy," he said smoothly, standing straight and tall. "Let's see if you got what it takes."

Dezba grinned broadly. Oh, how she savored a challenge!

* * *

For the first fifteen minutes, Thundercracker and Skywarp flew in silence—a deep, all-consuming, brooding silence. Thundercracker knew exactly what was eating away at his wingmate, but he thought it prudent to let the younger mech initiate the proceedings. They flew in perfect formation; for once Skywarp was on point, Thundercracker slightly behind and to his right wing. If the black jet banked, so did the navy one. Thundercracker mirrored every move his wingmate executed, more from habit than any true desire to do so. Together the duo rolled lazily across the sky, diving, banking, climbing, rolling and even at one point, flipping over their longitudinal axis. There's was a beautiful ballet of aerobatics, more precise than the Blue Angels, more deadly than a nest of pit vipers. It was only after completing these moves thrice over that Skywarp finally elected to say what had been on his processor.

"Why, TC? Why did you never tell me?"

"Would it have made a difference if I did?"

Skywarp did not reply.

"I didn't tell you, Warp, for two reasons. One, it was no one's slagging business and if word had gotten out, then I probably wouldn't still be functional today. Two, in the event that word had gotten around the ranks, I didn't want you involved. Anyone who would have tried to scan your datatrax or review your memories would have discovered you were telling the truth about not knowing I was an Autobot."

Skywarp continued to maintain his silence as he mulled over Thundercracker's words. Truth be told, TC's past probably would have changed his image of the morose, blue Seeker. Was he upset that his supposed best friend hadn't divulged that part of his past? Maybe a little. But now that he saw Thundercracker's reasoning, it made sense. He had been protecting him. The whole time he had been pestering and badgering TC for where he came from, he had refused not completely out of spite, but in the event something went wrong, he wouldn't be incriminated in the aftermath. No "Decepticon" would bother to go to such lengths to protect a comrade, but then again, TC wasn't a true Decepticon; he was something else entirely.

"Warp, my past is a very complicated and twisted thing, filled with betrayal, blackmail, and the slaying of thousands of innocent lives. But I was designed and programmed for one purpose and one purpose only and that was to protect. That was my function before the war and it will ultimately be my function after. Megatron believed he could override that programming with hate and manipulation and in the short run he did, but my core programming was stronger than even he realized and it showed in subtle ways."

"So what happens now?" Skywarp asked, slowly dipping and rising with the air currents.

"That's up to you, Skywarp. Up until my fight with Ironhide, my past was very secretive; undoubtedly now, rumors will have spread back into the Decepticon ranks. I don't have to tell you what to expect."

Skywarp was quiet once more and together the two jets continued to criss-cross through the air. Once he was certain of what he wanted to say, Skywarp spoke. "TC, I may not have as much experience as you or Screamer, but there is one thing I've come to realize that separates us from the rest of the Decepticons."

"Oh, and what's that?" Thundercracker asked, genuinely interested.

"Seekers are unique," Skywarp answered, "I think we're the only Cons in the whole army that really trust each other, no matter what and we'll take the word of a wingmate long before that of a groundpounder."

"But Warp, I wasn't created as a Decepticon Seeker," Thundercracker protested, the memory of Starscream's brooding optics flooding his processor on that fateful day.

"That doesn't matter to me, TC. Autobot, Decepticon—you've always covered my wing and that means more to me than where you came from. We've been through most of the War together, watched each others' tailfins, and kept each other alive out there. I don't think any other Decepticons out there would do stuff like that, unless they were a gestalt or something, but you get the picture?"

"And what of Starscream?"

"What about him?"

"He could still potentially ruin me; he does have a strong measure of blackmail against me," Thundercracker elaborated.

"Well, you said it yourself, TC. Rumors are out now, so doesn't that kinda nullify his blackmail? Besides, when it comes to stuff like that, it only ever matters if you care and the other mech knows you care. Now that word is out, why care? And also, you've earned his respect over the orns, TC. I mean, slag; you're the Second! And now, I don't think he would blackmail you even if the opportunity would present itself."

Thundercracker was somewhat surprised by Skywarp's sudden fount of wisdom. The crazy thing was, it made sense. He was right. Why care? Everything _was_ out in the open; secrets didn't matter anymore. And he had noticed a change in Starscream's behavior towards him, but he had just written it off to the change in the mantle of leadership and the bizarre circumstances the whole army was now facing. But looking at it from Warp's point of view, it seemed logical and at the very least surprisingly accurate.

"I never thought of it like that," he finally murmured.

"I know and that's why you have _me,_" Skywarp replied cheekily.

Thundercracker could practically hear the smirk in Skywarp's voice. He playfully tapped his wing against that of the black jet's. "Yeah, well don't let it go to your head. I already have enough on my struts dealing with Starscream's ego, let alone yours."

"And that's what keeps you on your toes, Thundercracker my friend!" He barrel-rolled lazily across the sky, finally feeling more like his old self.

"So, all's forgiven?" Thundercracker asked, following his friend's vapor trail.

"What's there to forgive, TC?" Beat. "Hey, I know! Race ya back to base!" And with that, the black and purple Eagle disappeared in a flash of purple light, only to reappear on radar almost two miles away.

The blue jet chuckled to himself while simultaneously firing his afterburners. A massive shockwave ripped through the air behind him as he raced to catch up to the black prankster. It felt good to know he still had a friend in Skywarp and even more importantly, a friend that he knew would back him up come whatever may.

* * *

Naturally, Skywarp easily beat his blue counterpart back to the base; however, the sounds emanating from the large building made him forget all about winning and just stare in utter befuddlement. Thundercracker landed and transformed smoothly next to him, also deeply interested in the sounds reverberating within the building.

_Was that music!? Human music!?_

The two Seekers exchanged looks before they began walking towards the hangar. As they slid open the door, a very surprising sight met both their optics and nearly caused the both of them to have a processor melt-down. The song _Car Wash_ sung by Christina Aguilera, was blaring over the speakers of one of the twins, the black Viper Runamuck. The other twin, Runabout, was a sudsy, dirty, sopping wet mess of bubbles, sponges and rags. The powerful 600 horsepower, V10 engine was purring like a large cat in time to the music. Barricade stood nonchalantly against the wall, his armor absolutely gleaming like polished ebony and ivory; he cocked an optic ridge in their direction and the faintest of smirks was pulling on his mouth components. Soundwave was nowhere to be seen, but Rumble and Frenzy were dancing a jig to the music, oblivious to the two new observers. And right smack dab in the middle of the whole scene, was Dezba. Even though her arm was in a sling and her ribs were bandaged, she wasn't letting her injuries keeping her from letting loose and having a little fun. She was currently busy scrubbing a rather filthy, rear quarter panel on the white Viper, her back to the Seekers. She was also singing along to the song and was so busy scrubbing the grime, at first she didn't notice when the music stopped and it grew eerily quiet.

She paused in her work, noticed the abrupt change in atmosphere and slowly turned around to see who stood in the doorway. She gave a hesitant wave, suds dripping from her messy ponytail and flying off her fingers in small, white patches. Fortunately, Skywarp saved the day as he stepped forward and bellowed, "Hey! How come you guys are having a party and didn't invite me!?"

"Well, get in line, flyboy!" Runamuck hollered back, not even missing a beat while pointing to a spot behind him. Immediately the music started back up and Skywarp drug Thundercracker over to stand beside the Viper and the Mustang.

Dezba threw Thundercracker a big grin and went back to work, scrubbing in time to the beat of the music. Well, maybe, just maybe if the other Cons could except a human to scrub and clean their armor, then maybe they could tolerate an ex-Autobot flier in their ranks as well. At this point, anything was possible.


End file.
